Necessary Alterations
by Love-your-suit
Summary: Something stalls Hannibal Lecter from moving to Baltimore in 1970. This reshapes his entire life.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note:

Normally, Hannibal would have moved to Baltimore in 1970. This begins in 1969, thus stopping Hannibal from going there in 1970, and being caught by Will Graham.

It was a very nice day, warm with a slight breeze, and summer was almost here. Mid-May, and even in New York it wasn't sweltering. Most children were out playing, school had been out for a few hours today and it was nearly dinner time for most families. Except for the Donovan family. Lucas, a young boy of 10, had finally snapped. He had watched his father beat his mother, and he couldn't take it any longer.

A knife from the kitchen was his weapon, but his father heard him coming, and Lucas only managed to just barely stab him under his knee. He was unable to run after his son, but he caught him before he could even pull the knife out, and the two fought until Lucas was able to squirm away. His mother called for him to run, and so he did, blood running out of his nose and mouth, tears in his eyes, he ran. 

He finally settled by a dumpster, hoping to allow his injuries to stop throbbing before he returned home. His nose was broken, and it was not the first one. Knuckles were ripped apart from the force with which he had struck his father, and one of his baby molars, not quite ready to fall out, sat in his palm.

It hurt to cry, it did nothing but stuff up his nose, but he found it hard to calm down, worrying about his mother and feeling quite a bit of pain from his injuries. He curled up tighter, trying to touch his nose, his fingers tender. 

Hannibal Lecter had just finished a lecture at the community college in Manhattan, exhausted by the constant incoherent chatter among the students in the auditorium, and far beyond irritated with the people of the city. The smell of garbage, pollution and cheap cologne filled the air, coupled with various pitches of car horns and the muffled echos of shouting. As he walked along the street side, his footsteps barely made a sound, and the tails of his coat trailed behind him, kicking the unpleasant scents in the air up at him. He stopped mid-step about ten feet from an alleyway when he caught the smell of fresh blood in the air. His left hand remained in his pocket, but his right found its way to the harpy he kept in his jacket sleeve. Hannibal stepped around the corner into the alleyway, only to find a young boy sitting on the ground, bleeding from various areas on his face. He knew better than to approach someone who had been injured, so he lowered to one knee, paying no attention to his expensive clothing, and made himself appear smaller and less threatening than usual. Lecter removed his hat and held it with both hands by the fingertips in front of him. "I'd ask you why you're hiding, but I think we both know that's none of my business. Would you like a handkerchief?" 

Lucas had tensed when Hannibal first walked around the dumpster, but he began to relax, just a little, as Hannibal knelt. Lucas locked his dark hazel eyes onto Hannibal's face, studying him in a way that children didn't study adults. He seemed startled by Hannibal's eyes, but not enough to pull away or not respond to him. He folded his hand around his tooth and twisted his lips to one side. "Yeah," he says, his voice a bit thick from blood. He realizes something and after a beat follows up with, "Please." 

Hannibal smiled softly at the young man catching himself on his manners. Some small part of him breathed a sigh of relief at seeing someone so young genuinely display good manners. He pulled a maroon silk cloth from his jacket pocket and only got close enough to hand it over. As soon as it left his hand he returned to his original spot. Lecter knew all too well how fast one could snap when overwhelmed with fear. Something about the boy's eyes reminded him of himself, though much younger. It unnerved him. "My name is Hannibal, Hannibal Lecter. And you are?" 

"Lucas Donovan." he responds, and even offers a nod to Hannibal, much like a man double his age would. He took the handkerchief carefully, and seemed a bit relieved that it wasn't white. At least his blood wouldn't be so visible on this one. He he cautious, with the hands of someone who has tended to their own wounds before. A "Thank you" escapes him as he checks to see how much his nose is still bleeding after doing away with the remains of tears on his cheeks. Normally, Lucas would have commented that it was nice to meet Hannibal, and it was great to have a friendly presence, but he was far more focused on the pain he was experiencing to remember all of his manners. 

Hannibal perked his brow at the name. It had a nice ring to it, and flowed well when spoken. He nodded in response to his 'thank you' and tried to find a comfortable position as he spoke. "Well, I am pleased to meet you." He settled on his heels, though he still squatted down to level with Lucas. "Is there anywhere you'd like to go? I'm sure someone is worried about you somewhere. My car is just around the corner, and I would be more than willing to give you a ride." He had a sullen look in his eyes as he looked Lucas over. Lecter knew the look of those wounds. He wasn't beaten by anyone his age. At first he had thought the boy was mugged, but as he watched him tend his cuts and bruises, it seemed far too routine. 

Lucas bit at his lip in consideration. His one hand thumbed at the handkerchief, his other continued to hold his tooth. "I don't know what will happen if I go back." He was considering lying, and it was obvious. Why he decided to be honest with Hannibal he had no idea, but his eyes tensed in annoyance at himself. He looked back up to Hannibal, mentally going over the few warnings he had gotten from his parents regarding strangers. "You know what they say about trusting strangers." It's an offhanded comment, and his dark eyes seem to grow even darker. He is conflicted with the choices between going home to where he knew his father would be waiting, sleeping out here in the alley, or trusting the kind man before him. He sighs, laughs a bit and it makes his ribs tighten, but it barely shows. "Well, I never was one to follow the rules." He seems so adult it's almost to the point of being unnerving. 

Hannibal gave him a somewhat disturbed look, though he masked it as surprised as well as he could. "If you don't want to go home, I'll take you anywhere you'd like. And so far as rules, one can make their own." He gave Lucas a grin, though he let it fade quickly into a stern expression, as if he was trying to get a point across. "But I will say this: Making your own rules is far more difficult than following the ones in place. You have to follow them without question. The consequences of breaking them are far worse than those of society." He could tell something about the boy was off, and to his dismay it was strikingly similar to how he was as a child. He locked eyes with Lucas to make sure he was paying attention, and to be certain he go the point. 

Lucas gave Hannibal a grim nod, understanding what he meant. Maybe not to the most extreme extent Hannibal meant it, but the seed had been planted and Lucas completely understood and respected it. Again he considered for a few moments and then he shook his head at Hannibal. "I don't really have anywhere to go." If he had any aunts or uncles he didn't know of them, and his father knew where his friends lived. He didn't want to get his friends in trouble, nor get caught. As if the thought would make his father appear Lucas cast a worried glance to the mouth of the alley. 

Hannibal held his hand up dismissively and smiled as he lowered his head. "I assure you that no one will manage to surprise me. You're safe." He stood up slowly and extended his hand to Lucas as he raised to his feet. "If you'd like, you can stay with me until you find a place to go." He wasn't sure why he offered Lucas a place to stay, as he had never had any children and his wife had been dead for almost 3 years. There was also the issue of how similar the two of them were. A part of him wanted to prevent the boy from ever becoming what he was, a miserable, old murderer, alone in the world with nothing but painful memories. The other part of him was terrified to see what he could become, but if that was the case, at least he could take him under his wing. 

Lucas considered and then accepted Hannibal's help up, again thanking him in a quiet voice. He was about 4'7, so it was obvious he would not be a very tall man once he hit his adulthood. He stood with his back fairly straight, and with a posture of pride and almost defiance. With the eye of a man who knows anatomy like Hannibal does, it would be obvious that the young boy had been in many fights, and rarely with people his own age. He tucked his tooth into his pocket and carefully followed the folded lines in the handkerchief to return it to how it had been before. He offered it back to Hannibal, looking a bit more childish, as if looking to make sure he had folded it correctly. 

He accepted the handkerchief graciously, and patted him once on the back of the head softly. He walked close beside him with the protective presence of a father. At one point he set his hand on his shoulder reassuringly, and all the while made sure to walk on the curb side of the path. He wanted to believe that there was still good in Lucas, that he could bring that out in him and possibly even redeem himself. If he could preserve one life, maybe on some small scale he could atone for the countless he had taken. Once they were to his car, a solid black Mercedes with beautiful chrome rims, black leather covering the seats, dashboard and armrest, and suede carpeting on the floor panels, he held the door open for him. It hardly looked used, in fact, it appeared as if it were directly off the production line. "Before I bring you to my home, I want to be certain that you are one hundred percent on leaving yours. Just think it over while I drive. I'll take the long route home." He smiled down at him, though he still had the stern look of a father teaching his son a lesson. Somewhere behind his current compassionate expression, the dead eyes of a ruthless murderer remained. Looking into them was like watching a light dim slowly, until every spark of light faded into the dark. 

Lucas was oddly unbothered by Hannibal's eyes, but he nodded to show he understood. He carefully got into the car and held himself in order to not get any blood on the inside of the car, as if that was his largest worry. It was odd, he had to admit, having a male presence that he wasn't scared of. Though that fear was quickly turning into rage.

His breathing was a bit heavy on the way to Hannibal's home, the thought of his mother and father putting him back into fight or flight mode. He broke the silence of the drive in order to say, "The only thing is my mom. But I can't help her anyway." The shame in his voice was heavy, as if he failed some important task. His eyes hardened and tensed yet again, his posture stiffening as well. 

Hannibal sighed in empathy. The memory of his parents' deaths played back in his mind, and Mischa, poor little Mischa crying out for them. He halted his thoughts there, as his had begun to tighten around the steering wheel. One deep breath and his heart slowed down enough that he could speak calmly. "It sounds cliche, but I understand your worry. Not for one's mother, but for the one person you love most."

He pulled the car over alongside the road and shifted into park. "Now is when you get to decide the rest of your life." He cast his eyes down in consideration, then brought them back up to meet Lucas'. "Will you spend your life caring for your mother, suffering through the pain in hope that things will be alright, or will you put that all behind you and begin anew. Whatever you choose, be sure you are willing to follow through. A life of indecisiveness is a troubled one." He stared out the front of the car with a heavy feeling in his forehead, as if his thoughts were piling up so high that they were weighing down his skull. The more he spoke with Lucas, the more he saw himself, and it made him uneasy. 

Lucas had been a selfless boy up until the moment he ran. He couldn't turn back, and he knew if he return his father would beat him so badly he would almost die. Maybe even cut off his fingers or something. He glanced back down the road, as if his house would be right there, and then he looked back forward. "I'm not turning back." His voice was again very adult like, his hands squeezing his knees, the dried blood in the wounds on his knuckles tugging and cracking. 

Hannibal looked him over for a few seconds to assess just how serious he was, and realized that he wasn't speaking with a child, though he wasn't an adult either. He was some strange phase in between, forced to grow beyond his years, but still had the childish ambitions and desires of a young boy. At least this was his impression. Hannibal knew better than to jump to conclusions, especially regarding people. He himself was extremely unpredictable, aside from his good manners and methods of killing anyway.

"Alright, then it's decided. I'll have you in a new school by next week, and new clothing for you by tomorrow. Until then you just let your injuries heal. If at any point you decide against this, just say the word and you're home, but I don't believe you're the kind of person to go back on your word. Deal?" He felt ridiculous making such a deal with a child. Regardless of his opinions, however, he knew the boy needed someone to guide him. Sure, he could more than likely make it through life alone, but why let him? Lecter had more than enough money, an abundance of space in his home, and had always wanted children. 

Lucas looks unsure about new clothing, as if it's odd to get, but he twists in his seat to offer Hannibal his right hand to shake on the deal. His jaw is set with determination and it seems that he feels that if he doesn't shake hands with this man that the deal isn't real. It's not only to prove himself a truthful man, but to ensure Hannibal isn't either. Again his eyes gain a hint of childishness, but there's still the very adult emotion of power and determination. 

Hannibal smirked at him in amusement and shook his hand firmly. "Okie dokie then, let's head home." His mind was racing from the anxiety. He had no clue what he was doing, what children needed. Aside from all of that, he had just met this boy less than an hour ago, and was already taking him into his home as if he were a foster parent of sorts. Lecter hadn't even considered the fact that he traveled for work, was a wanted man in several of the countries he traveled to on a regular basis, and somewhat regularly dined on the choice organs of human beings. He had already come off as creepy as it was, and assumed that the child before him had heard his name in the news at least once. It seemed like just a few years ago that he had been inspected by a detective in France. The worry over his possible nature had followed him like a fog ever since. Before he knew it, they were parked out front of his home, and the engine cooling and settling seemed louder than usual in the awkward silence. 

Lucas seemed to be thinking about what he was doing as well, but the only question he asked once they got home, yet again breaking the silence, was, "Do you have rubbing alcohol? I need to clean my knuckles." Disregarding his obviously broken nose, and the tooth his father had beat out of him, his main worry was his knuckles. Maybe because he could actually clean those, and feel like he was doing something, but he didn't know how to fix his nose, and his mouth just hurt. Some part of him worried Hannibal would call the police on him, that he could get taken away and put with some horrible plastic foster family. Going with Hannibal had been his choice. Lucas wanted to make his own choices from that point on. He had no idea who Hannibal was, however, as his father didn't like anyone reading the news or watching TV. 

Hannibal's head jerked slightly, barely a quarter inch as if he was snapping out of some sort of trance. "Of course. My apologies." He stepped out of the car without another word, and made his way around to the other side to walk Lucas to the house. 

Lucas got out and cast a worried eye to his seat, making sure there was no blood there. He followed Hannibal, but didn't keep too close. He was poking at the new space in his mouth with his tongue, but it was silent. He was not the type of child who got bored easily, and could sit in a room with nothing to do with complete patience. His father had tried all manners to make Lucas lose his mind, it seemed. He felt a pang of guilt as he wondered what would happen to his mother in his absence, but he continued to walk forward. 

Once they were inside of his home, he stood by the door, holding it open to invite him in to look around. It was a large two-story house with polished redwood floors, maroon walls, hand carved crown-molding, vaulted ceilings and several classic paintings hanging from the walls. The kitchen had black marble flooring, red granite counter-tops and a stainless steel sink and fridge. The house, much like his car, hardly seemed lived in, but the scent of him and a faint trace of blood and steel hung in the air. "I am a doctor you know. I could help you with those injuries if you'd like." He assumed Lucas would want to tend to them himself if he was at all similar. 

Lucas had wondered in the car but now it was confirmed, this man was money. He glanced to him, twisting his lips as he considered. There was already a butterfly bruise forming from his broken nose, and he looked down at his knuckles again. "Well... It might be best," he admits, looking back up at Hannibal. He glances back around and then asks, "Should I take off my shoes?" Some of his friends, though few they were, had parents who demanded shoes be taken off at the door. Lucas was more than happy to do this for Hannibal. 

Hannibal smiled warmly at him, though a bit of uncertainty remained in his eyes. It was strange having someone in his home that he didn't intend to kill. "Unless they're completely filthy, just wipe them off." 

Lucas just decided it would be best to be safe, and he got off his shoes, hiding his cringing as his knuckles protested the treatment. He didn't allow it to slow him down and within a few moments he was standing again next to Hannibal, looking up at him like how a dog trying to learn a new trick would, eager to learn and please. 

"Alright then, let me show you to the rest room. We'll get you patched up and I'll show you around the house." He gestured to the stairs and headed toward them slowly, stopping at the bottom of them to wait for Lucas. Once he had him seated on the closed lid of the toilet, he looked him over quickly. "I'll need to reset your nose, and so far as the tooth we'll have to find a dentist. Were you hit in the abdomen at all?" Usually he would have had to provide the definition of an abdomen, but Lucas already struck him as an intelligent young man. 

"Nah, got my ribs a bit, but not enough that I can't move and breathe." he offers. The idea of his nose getting set makes him squirm. His father had done it last time, more than likely just to hurt Lucas yet again. He shrugged his shoulders at the tooth, obviously trying to answer Hannibal by order of importance. "I think it was supposed to come out at some point. Looks like a baby tooth." He kept his hands loose and on his knees so Hannibal could get to them easily to clean them. 

Hannibal shook his head in disapproval. The thought of a man knocking out his own son's baby teeth sickened him, in fact, it made him angry enough to kill him. "Regardless, we should have it looked at. Now, hold still, and exhale out of your mouth when I say." He locked eyes with him to make sure he was ready. The last thing he wanted to do was startle the boy. 

Lucas locked their eyes for a moment and took one breath to calm himself before tensing up his body and screwing his eyes shut, his hands gripping tightly at his knees yet again. His nose had to have been set before, as he made sure to not wrinkle his nose or tense his jaw too much. "Ready," he whispered, his voice tense, the slightly twinge of fear to it. 

Hannibal exhaled and let his wrist loosen as he raised his hand to Lucas' nose. "Now." He made the motion quick and precise to minimize the pain. He rubbed Lucas' shoulder to comfort him, and offered him a wet washrag with his free hand. "There you are. Just don't lean your head back." 

Lucas had fought to keep his hands on his knees, to keep from grabbing Hannibal by the wrist, but he managed. He relaxed his body as soon as it was over, keeping his eyes closed as he willed the tears of pain to go away again. They opened the second he felt Hannibal's hand on his shoulder. It was strange, but oddly comforting. He took the rag with a small whisper of thanks and very, very carefully worked on getting the blood off his skin. "Thank you." he said, meaning this time for the nose. 

"You are most welcome." Lecter tried to keep casual conversation going while he worked on his hands in hopes it would distract him from the pain. "Luckily your hands aren't hurt too bad. I'll let you tend to them yourself. I know how much it hurts having someone else do this." He smiled warmly at Lucas and made his way out of the bathroom. "I'll be in my bedroom until you're finished, and after that I'll show you your choice of rooms." There were 6 bedrooms in the house, 3 of which he used for himself, but the rest of them were available. 

Lucas worked quickly on his knuckles, and used some water to rinse out his mouth from the blood. He greedily drank some water as well, as he had fought, run, and sat crying, with only blood and a few tears to wet his dry throat.

He looked at himself in the mirror, the bruising fairly bad on one side of his face, his nose just _looked_ tender, and his eyes were still rimmed with red from his crying. He carefully rinsed the washcloth and wrung it out before carefully hanging it over the faucet.

Lucas moved quite quietly, and only someone as alert as Hannibal would hear him. Lucas knocked with his second knuckle instead of his third to avoid getting blood on the door jam. 

Hannibal appeared at the door almost instantly, and the only noise that followed him was the air moving past him as he walked. He had mastered the art of walking silently, and was quite impressed with Lucas for learning at such a young age. His harpy was still sitting out on his nightstand next to his sharpening stone, the blade folded in and only half sharpened.

"Normally I can hear people all the way downstairs. You're a clever young man." Lecter had heard him walking to his room, but not until he was just five or so feet away from his door. He moved past him and shut the door behind him, and gestured to the room just ten feet down the hall. "This is the first room you can choose from, but I'm sure you'll want a bit more privacy than that." 

Lucas seemed happy at the praise, and he even smiled over it. At Hannibal's offer of privacy, Lucas seemed confused about it. "You wouldn't want me in the closest room to keep tabs on me?" he asked, looking up at the older man.

This seems surreal to him, possibly why he is still so calm. He wonders if he is in some coma and Hannibal is some doctor and his brain has made up some new fantasy world. Lucas wouldn't doubt it with how hard his father hits. 

Hannibal smirked at him as he opened the door for him to inspect the room. "If I felt the need to keep tabs on you I wouldn't have offered for you to pick your room. I trust you to behave until you give me reason not to." He gave him the same stern look he had been using to get points across.

The truth was, he didn't trust anyone, but he knew that the young man before him appreciated what he was being given, a second chance to live the life he wanted. His assumption was that he would behave so long as Hannibal was fair, even if he was punishing him. It would be difficult not to use his mind games against Lucas. Since he was so mature, Hannibal was already making the mistake of treating him as an equal of sorts, he just didn't want that to filter into his malicious side. 

Lucas glanced at the rooms Hannibal offered, and found himself almost annoyed that none of them seemed of a lower quality, so he gave up and picked the last room Hannibal had shown him with a very gracious thanks. Before Hannibal could suggest anything else, Lucas looked up at him and in a very serious voice asked, "Is this some crazy dream I'm having?" As if Hannibal would know. Lucas looks extremely vulnerable at the idea of this being fake. 

Hannibal laughed softly. It wasn't in a mocking way, in fact, it was in a very fatherly, reassuring manner. "No. Sometimes I wish it all were, but sadly things don't work that way." He stared off into the distance for a moment, lost in the far off place his mind wandered whenever one of his many bad memories floated through his thoughts. 

Lucas waited patiently for him to return, not even watching him. He stood still, like a little soldier, awaiting for Hannibal to either send him to bed or give him something to eat or tell him the rules. Lucas didn't know how normal people acted, not with his family life, so he allowed Hannibal to lead the way and show him what he was supposed to do. Even if it hurt to do so, Lucas straightened his posture a little more as if getting ready for inspection. 

Lecter snapped out of his odd trance and blinked slowly a few times. "Well, what would you say to something to eat? I have fresh lamb in the fridge. Sound good?" The innocent way he spoke paired with his metallic, raspy voice was just plain eerie. It was the kind of contrast that would offset anyone's comfort, so naturally it was strange to him that Lucas was so relaxed. Even those who had found him charming believed him to be someone dark under it all, and sadly they couldn't have been more right. 

"I don't know what lamb tastes like," admits Lucas. By the tone of his voice, he didn't even know people ate lamb. His family must have been the burgers and steak type who never deviated from a ritual of beef, cheese, and good pure Americana. Lucas didn't find Hannibal odd in the least. The only cruel people Lucas knew of were well off boys his age, or his father, who spoke very differently than Hannibal. In Lucas's eyes, Hannibal was the good guy, nothing dark about him. 

"Well then, you're in for a treat. It's far more rich in flavor than beef, more of a... bloody taste to it, and more tender than veal if you cook it right." His eyes warmed over at the thought of it, but to his disappointment he only had enough for one person. Hannibal was wary to tap into his 'special reserve' in his locked freezer, but it seemed he had no choice. 

Lucas wrinkles his nose just ever so slightly in confusion, but quickly regrets it as his nose throbs. "What's veal?" he asks, his voice a little tight from the recent swell of pain. 

Hannibal tilted his head in confusion, but said nothing on the matter. Instead, he replied casually so as not to embarrass Lucas in any way. "It is the meat of a very young calf. Often kept in veal crates, away from their herd and mother. Some are killed at a few days, some a few weeks. Depends on the taste and texture you're going for." He had a sinister tone, as if he were hissing into someones ear the process through which he was mutilating them, guiding them through every pass of the knife with his low, scraping voice. 

That almost threw Lucas off, but he didn't really understand the 'darker' places of this world. The only things he knew were from his schooling, when he could focus, or from his home life, which told him that women needed protection and some men were monsters. Lucas had never feared something under his bed, the only thing in his house to fear had been his own father. "Oh. I don't know much about food, I guess." He shrugs his shoulders that actually have some form of muscle. Lucas had been trying to build up his muscle for years, as if once he got enough he would be able to defend his mother. 

"Well, if you'd like to learn I am more than willing to teach you." Hannibal made his way to the kitchen without another word. He figured Lucas would come to him for something to do, whether it was helping him cook or watching television. Either way, he just wanted the boy to relax. 

Lucas followed Hannibal with a timidness, looking around at the house. He very, very carefully sat in a chair at the breakfast table, watching Hannibal with a calculating look, making sure that what he was doing was okay. Lucas was a very quiet child, and seemed to only ask questions if he felt he needed to. 

Hannibal made his way to the fridge and noticed a package of meat beside it. He knew it was the liver left over from his last victim, and breathed a sigh of relief knowing he didn't have to make a trip to his freezer. The liver was already well prepared, and in noticing this he realized it was supposed to be for tomorrow.

It didn't take long for him to prepare everything. He cooked the lamb as it was, though he did add a bit of red wine vinegar to bring the inner flavor to the surface. Normally he would have made a guest a gourmet meal, but he decided that it was best to taste lamb as it was for the first time. He paired everything with fresh sourdough bread, brown rice and a spinach salad with crushed walnuts, mushrooms, dried cranberries and an Italian dressing that was just a little less sharp than usual. It tied everything together beautifully, and the aromas in the air only made it more appetizing. He had forgotten all about the liver after running into Lucas, which made it all the more appealing. 

Lucas was a bit thrown off by the fact that, not only did Hannibal cook better than his mother, but he cooked in some special way that Lucas didn't understand. His mother made his waffles, and that was the most advanced thing she made. He seemed unsure if it was art, or food, and just looked at it. He thanked Hannibal, gracious as ever, and after almost hurting the messed up side of his mouth, he made sure he only chewed on the right side.

He didn't eat ravenously, despite being hungry, and he tried to figure out what Hannibal had been speaking of before hand, when he explained how veal and lamb and beef were all different. He wasn't speaking, and though it wasn't unusual for him thus far, it was obvious he was quiet thanks to appreciating the food and finding it good. 

Hannibal ate quietly beside him, happy to have company during his meal for once. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was analyzing the whole situation, him dining on a vital organ of another human being, while the abused runaway beside him ate lamb for the first time. It was just a different type of dysfunction, though he thought this to be far less harmful, as he wasn't knocking Lucas around and he was none the wiser that the man sheltering him was a cannibalistic serial killer. "How does it taste?" 

Lucas had the presence of mind to swallow his bite of food before answering. "It's great. I didn't know there was food like this." This was the child of fast food, and school line lunches, he had only had red sauced pasta and always from a jar. He knew that there was cheddar and swiss cheese, but nothing beyond that. He doesn't want to look like a fool so he doesn't ask if this is some rare thing. He just accepts it, but now that Hannibal is speaking to him he doesn't dare eat until Hannibal has finished speaking to him. 

Hannibal smiled warmly at him. He knew how it felt to have one's guard up constantly, so he made no mention of how tense Lucas was. He would rather he calmed down naturally than force it the way he seemed to with everything else about himself. "I'm glad to hear it. Please, eat." He gestured to Lucas' plate casually and returned to his own meal. The liver was wonderful. Succulent to the last bite, and filled with flavor. He savored every bit of it, and once he was finished eating, stood up to clear the table. "I'll handle the dishes. You've had a rough day." 

Lucas blinked at not having to wash dishes, but accepted Hannibal's graciousness. He carefully placed their chairs back in and waited patiently for Hannibal to finish with the dishes. Once he was sent off to bed he wandered back to the room he had picked. He glanced at the expensive looking sheets and then down at himself. He cringed a bit, tugged off his shirt and folded it. He figured his mouth or nose might bleed in the middle of the night, and he didn't want to wake up Hannibal to tell him that he had gotten blood in his sheets. He set it on the pillow, and only got under the comforter, not the sheet, not wanting to dirty anything. He made sure his head was on his t-shirt before allowing himself to relax. His door was still open a bit, training from his father who didn't like closed doors. 

Hannibal finished with the dishes, cleaned off the counters and poured himself a glass of wine. He headed for his study and sat down in his favorite chair, picked up a random book and absentmindedly stared at the text. After nearly five minutes of staring and having read almost nothing, he admitted defeat and headed for the stairs. As odd as it was, he walked down the hall a ways to check on Lucas. He didn't go near the door, but listened to see if he was still awake. 

Lucas froze when he heard someone outside his door, and his dark eyes opened to lock onto the crack. He sank down a bit in the bed, as if worried his father had some how not only found him, but had gotten past Hannibal. He gripped the comforter closer to his chest and tried to not breathe. 

Hannibal heard him shuffle around a bit and called down the hall way calmly before he cracked the door open. "I just wanted to see if you were still awake. I forgot to tell you there is a restroom down the hall and to the left. I'm sure you want to wash off before climbing into bed." He didn't even look into the room as he spoke. Lecter believed it was best to give people their privacy. "I'm heading upstairs to bed. Sleep well young man." 

Lucas blinked at the door, relaxing down into the sheets. He didn't get up, just remained as he was. He told himself he would wash in the morning. Besides, he worried about the steam making his nose bleed. It took him a long time to get to sleep, but he finally managed, curled up but sleeping well thanks to the soft bed and his long, tiring day. 

Hannibal headed up to his bedroom, his mind full of thoughts that until today had been foreign to him. He wondered how he would manage to keep Lucas in his custody without forging documents, how he would continue to travel, how he would keep his secrets hidden, and what Lucas would become. It was odd having someone else consume his thoughts to this extent. Lecter decided it was best to just put it out of his mind, to act as if nothing had changed.

As soon as he was finished sharpening his harpy, he set it back in his drawer, rinsed off and climbed into bed. He slept somewhat restlessly, though when morning came he was well rested. A few stretches to ease his aching bones and scar tissue and he headed downstairs to cook breakfast, still clad in his red silk pajamas. 

Lucas woke up when he heard Hannibal moving around, and he took a very quick shower. Lucas was a morning shower person, not an evening shower person. He got back into his clothing from the day before, carefully hung up his towel and made sure no water hit the bathroom floor, as if scared water would some how ruin the floors. His sandy colored hair was still a little damp as he wandered out to the kitchen to observe Hannibal, moving quietly like before. A small stain of blood was on his shirt from the damage to his mouth, and his molar was still in his pocket. He kept near the entrance to the kitchen, looking down at the blood on his shirt. 

"Good morning." Hannibal spoke with a small smile, though he didn't turn to greet Lucas. He was too focused on cooking the omelette. Usually he could cook a high quality meal while reciting a classical work from memory, but this particular morning he was feeling somewhat distracted. By what he couldn't be certain, but nevertheless it was a problem. "I hope mushrooms and peppers are alright with you." Lecter turned to face him and set the plate on the breakfast table along with a fork and an empty glass. "Is there anything in particular you like to drink in the morning?" 

Lucas laughed to himself and said, "Finally, something you are cooking that I know what it is." He moved further into the kitchen now that Hannibal had acknowledged him, and he moved with his quiet steps, that didn't seem to be his focus though they were well planned out, and settled at the table, slowly. "Er, water?" He shrugs his small shoulders. "Coffee. That's really it." He had had juice at friends houses, and milk when he was younger, but his parents never had either of those things around. 

Hannibal smirked at him in amusement. "Well you're in luck. The coffee finished brewing a few minutes ago." He poured him a mug, but just when it reached the point where there was room for additives he stopped. "Would you like cream and sugar?" Something told him that he preferred his coffee as it was, but with his good manners he automatically asked. 

"Regular." he answered, his shoulders shrugging softly, as if he wasn't sure what could be added to coffee and had only had it black. He watched Hannibal with his seemingly always calculating stare, but there was a softness at being taken care of. It make him look more like the child he was, instead of the young adult he had been forced into acting like for the past few years. 

"Ah. I thought so." Lecter set the coffee down beside Lucas' plate and got to work on preparing his own. He too had black coffee with his omelette, and sat beside Lucas just as before. "So. Today we'll buy you some clothing. Is there anything else you need?" His fatherly tone was becoming more natural already, though he still had the rigid hesitance of a conflicted man. 

Lucas seemed unsure about Hannibal buying him clothing, but he decided if Hannibal was going to try and take care of him, he needed to follow and be helpful. He bowed his head and studied the plate in front of him for a few moments. "I really want to thank you, for this. I don't know why you didn't turn me over to my parents or the cops, but I am glad you didn't." Lucas was still a kid and authorities or appreciate were still words he hadn't yet mastered shoving into everyday speech, so he opted for words he knew for sure, and he offered Hannibal a smile.

Hannibal paused and finished chewing, then softened his expression for a moment. "You are most welcome. From what I have seen, you're an intelligent young man. I trust you'll make the right decisions, and when you don't that you'll take into account the advice I have to offer." He took a sip of his coffee and fell silent.

The conversation was oddly domestic, and far too friendly for what he was used to. The idea of company on any level of permanence unnerved him, so he did his best to push it out of his mind. The less he thought of the future, the more he could enjoy himself in the moment. 

Lucas wants to please Hannibal and be a good kid, but he isn't entirely sure that he could, so he doesn't promise anything of the sort. He just returns to his breakfast, which he told Hannibal was good, and drank his coffee. He still looks like a man, with his posturing to deal with wounds, the bruises on his face, and the way his jaw is set. He offers to take Hannibal's dish once they were finished, wanting to some how earn his keep and the clothing Hannibal offered. 

"Ah, thank you." Hannibal sipped at his coffee happily and retrieved his phone book from the cabinet beneath the phone. He thumbed through the business listings for local clothing stores and jotted a few down on his notepad. He knew nothing about what any of them sold, so he decided to leave the choice of where to go to Lucas. 

Lucas did the dishes, well, and carefully dried his hands, moving closer to Hannibal with the awkwardness of a child. He waits with his eyes on the ground, letting Hannibal take his time and acknowledge him when he desired. Some trait picked up by his father, more than likely. 

Hannibal waited several seconds for Lucas to speak, still glancing over the pages for any other clothing stores in the area, and after nearly a minute he glanced up at the edge of the counter, barely catching sight of the boy in his peripherals and then up again to meet his eyes. Rather than make mention of his awkwardness, Hannibal simply smiled and slid the notepad across the counter along with the phone book. "I'm not sure if any of the stores I have written down carry clothing suited to your taste, so if there is anywhere your parents would take you please, feel free to write it down." Lecter forgot Lucas was a child most of the time, what with his constant silence and ever present self discipline. Some part of him knew this would cause issues later on, but like the rest of his fleeting thoughts, he beat them away. 

Lucas bites back a bitter laugh at the idea of his parents taking him out to get clothing, and he glanced at the list. He shrugged his shoulders a bit and glanced back to Hannibal. "Well, honestly, whatever is closest. I only need a few things. A pair of jeans, a shirt and maybe a sweater." He steps back a half step, awkwardly clasping his hands together. Lucas is used to two pairs of clothing, and a zip-up that had too short of sleeves and did very little against the harsh winters of New York. 

Hannibal tilted his head and glanced into the distance as if to say, "If that's what you'd prefer," and closed the phone book. "Okay. I'll be ready to leave in half an hour. I trust you can entertain yourself for that long. Feel free to turn on the television." He walked out of the kitchen, up the stairs and laid out his clothing for the day before he headed to the shower to rinse off. The warm water always helped to ease his aches and pains for the day. Despite his unusually high pain tolerance and ability to become immersed so deeply in his thoughts he was practically unconscious, like everyone else he hurt in the morning. 

Lucas simply sat, not on the couch because he was wary of it, but he remained by the front door. He studied the grain of the wooden floors below him, but aside from his eyes moving and the infrequent shifting to regain comfort, he didn't move, nor make a sound. His home life had instilled in him great patience. He could sit for hours upon hours, completely alone. He just wanted to get himself clothing and get back here. He was worried about running into his parents, and he was reflecting on the idea that the police just might be looking for him. He didn't know what would happen if he was listed as a runaway. 

Hannibal dressed in his more casually clothing, blue jeans, a white t-shirt, a loose fitting leather jacket and a baseball cap. He tried to remain inconspicuous at all times, as there were still many people that believed him to be guilty of murder. Even now, more than 15 years after the ordeal in Europe, the stories caught up with him from time to time.

As he descended the stairs, he saw Lucas doing just what he had expected: Absolutely nothing. The parallels between them were becoming more and more as time went by, but still Hannibal insisted on treating him like any other child. "If you don't prefer television or radio, perhaps you'd like a book to read in your free time?" 

Lucas stood up quick as if some how disrespecting Hannibal by sitting down. He brushed himself off a bit, and glanced up at Hannibal. "Oh, maybe." He obviously hadn't thought much of it. They didn't have a radio at his parents home, and the TV wasn't for him to watch or listen to. The only reading he did was at school. "I'll try out a few things," he offers to Hannibal, shrugging his shoulders and looking up at the older man. 

"If we're as much alike as I believe us to be, I think you'll rather enjoy reading." Lecter looked down at the boy with admiration, though there was still a bit of caution about him. He was proud of Lucas for persevering through the hell he had experienced, and for remaining so well disciplined even when he had found sanctuary, but he knew better than to get attached to anyone or put an kind of stock into them. "Now, let's get going." He held open the door for Lucas and waited for him to step out, and sniffed at the vibrant morning air. 

Lucas thanked him in a quiet voice and headed out to the car, pausing once at the end of the porch to wait for Hannibal, and then pausing again near his side of the car, waiting for Hannibal to get to it first. Lucas did not want to be seen as bad, didn't want to be punished, and didn't want to be sent back to his father. His mother, the saint she was, was dearly missed by Lucas. But he didn't have the strength within himself to return back. He was too much of a coward, though it is to be expected of a child his age, dealing with what he had. It didn't help his view of himself. 

Hannibal settled into his seat and unlocked the door for Lucas from the inside of the car. While the engine warmed, he flipped on the radio and turned to channel to the only one that played classical music. "I hope you don't mind the music." 

Lucas shook his head. Judging by his interest, he hadn't heard much music, and certainly never anything like this. He seemed quite focused on it the entire drive, his eyes locked with a sharpened, calculating stare at the radio. He didn't notice where they were driving as he was too focused on the classical pieces. 

Hannibal glanced over at him at one point during the drive in amusement. Observing Lucas in his curious state mind made him realize that he had never lost his own childish way of learning.

It was odd to think that in all of his sophistication, all of his knowledge and wisdom, the process by which he had advanced beyond the norm was that of a child. A small smile inched across his lips, but only for a brief moment, as they had just arrived in the parking lot of the first clothing outlet. "Here we are. The first store on our list." 

"First? It's just jeans and a shirt." Lucas looks at Hannibal with confusion, not get going for his seatbelt, his hands resting on his knees and his head tilted a bit as he observed him. 

"Well, the way I see it one should have school clothing and play clothing. However, if you insist on just two pairs and a sweater, then I won't force anything upon you." Lecter turned off the car and stepped out into the parking lot without another word. He called to Lucas from the sidewalk, a fatherly smile across his lips. "Please remember to lock the door." 

Lucas had forgotten and laughed to himself, softly, before fixing his mistake and loping after Hannibal, stopping right at his side. "In the end it's your money, but why waste it when I'll just grow too big for it in a year or so?" This seemed to be a legitimate issue for Lucas. 

Hannibal let out a very brief grumble of a laugh at his words. "My boy, I have no other use for money. If I was in any way worried about expenses I would have dropped you off with your parents and went about my business." He made no mention of his travels, of his extravagant dinner parties or his odd taste in food. There was no point in any of it, as he knew Lucas would come to know these things with time. 

Lucas tilted his head. "You don't want to use your money for, you know, _you_?" he asked, his brows furrowing in further confusion. He kept to Hannibal's side like any child does with a parent, and despite the obvious physical differences, Lucas seemed to seemingly alter his body language to appear more relaxed with Hannibal than he was. No one would even blink about it because of his subtle closer position to Hannibal, and he made their stride match so they seemed to have been at the same speed for a long time, as if this was normal. 

Hannibal found Lucas' adaptivity peculiar, though as usual he said nothing. "One day you'll see that money does nothing but create issues. It's a tool, nothing more. The only things that matter in life are what you keep in here." He tapped his temple with his index finger to drive the point home. His smile faded during his explanation, bringing out the cold, dead haze in his eyes. His fatherly aura reappeared almost instantly, however. When in the company of an innocent, his softer side seemed to show far more often. 

Lucas decided to redirect him as they got to the boys section and he mildly glared at the far-too-many clothing racks. "So, what was that playing in the car?" he asked, glancing around a bit lazily. 

Hannibal separated several articles of clothing from one another so Lucas could inspect them a bit easier. "The first song was Nocturne in G Minor. It was written in the early 1800's by a man named Frederic Chopin. The second was The four seasons and was written by an Italian named Antonio Vivaldi." He still found it odd being asked such questions by a child, though it gave him a sliver of hope that the future still held some promise for the generations to come. 

"Do they have any other stuff?" he asked, giving into defeat as he had with the room selection. Hannibal wouldn't let up with getting him clothes, just as he wouldn't have a poorly maintained room with a cheap bed and sheets. He picked out a few things with the air of 'Alright, I will play the game'. 

Lecter's jaw and eyes tensed a bit at Lucas' manner of speaking. At times he was so well spoken, and other times he butchered somehow managed to butcher the English language, which in Hannibal's opinion was difficult to accomplish. Still, he said nothing, and assumed that being the bright young man he was, over time he would assimilate Lecter's manner of speaking with his own. "I'm not sure. Shall we ask a sales attendant? Or would you rather move on to the next store?" 

Lucas wrinkled his nose. "Nooo. Chopin and Vivaldi." he corrected, though he some how managed to do it with the innocence of the child he was, and the respect of the adult he acted like. His eyes tensed. "Like, did they make more than just Nocturne and The Four Seasons?" Lucas must have had a good memory to instantly remember how to pronounce the words Hannibal just used in a fairly passing comment. However, since Lucas had not heard the words before he spoke with the slight metallic rasp and influx that Hannibal used. 

Hannibal tilted his head in amusement and smiled with fatherly pride. "Yes, in fact they were both famous composers of their time. I'll show you some of my EP's when we're done shopping." He was surprised by Lucas' instant interest in classical music. Things seemed as if they would be easier than he imagined. Educate the boy in ways his grade level couldn't offer, putting him ahead of the rest, and culture him well so that he would be as refined a gentleman as any. The potential was there, it always had been, now all he needed was a bit of guidance, at least that was Hannibal's opinion on the matter. 

Lucas nodded to the suggestion, and like a man who had dealt with women shopping lengthily for far too long, just decided on a few things by glancing at the tags and folding them over his arm. "Well, who else did music like that? I haven't really listened to any music." It was odd for him to admit it, as even as he listened to the store around him he could hear music from the speakers in the ceiling. Music in Hannibal's car, in everyone's car, it seemed as if he had missed some great important part of life. 

Hannibal looked Lucas over as if to assess whether he was actually done picking out clothing, and answered as he walked to the register with him. "Yes, in fact there are many more composers, all with their own manner of expression. Liszt, Tchaikovsky, Mozart, Beethoven. Those are the most well known, anyway. We'll talk more about it when we're back at home." He pulled his wallet from his jacket pocket and sifted through for any denominations smaller than $100 bills, but could find none. It was an odd dilemma, one of a wealthy man, and all he could do was chuckle to himself quietly. It made him think of Lucas' earlier comment about money, which only furthered his amusement. 

Lucas perked a brow at him as he chuckled, but didn't say anything about it. He just kept close to Hannibal and patiently waited until they were heading out. Hannibal using a hundred was not lost on Lucas, and on their way to the car, Lucas asked, "What are you going to do with me when you go to the hospital or your office or where ever you work?" Lucas had remembered 'doctor', from before, and the ease Hannibal had set his nose, so he assumed he was a doctor and that was how he got his money. 

"I hadn't given that much thought. I suppose I should get to work on transferring you to a different school." Lecter wouldn't dare hire a sitter. He detested the idea of strangers in his home when he was present, so naturally the idea of one being there while he was at work was just plain unsettling. 

He worried Hannibal wasn't sure what exactly he was getting himself in to. He twisted his lips as he studied him. "You're not sure what to do, are you?" he asked, pausing by the car, but with his posture he seemed more focused on their conversation than on how close to the car he was. 

Hannibal chuckled to himself and leaned against the car as they spoke. "No, no I'm afraid I don't. However, I've made it this far without a plan, and as difficult as it has been I always have hope that the next day will be better than the last." He smiled down at Lucas and set his hands in his jacket pockets, still leaning against the car. "What do _you_ think we should do? You have to go to school, there's no question about that, but at the moment I'm not entirely sure that's the best idea." 

Lucas shrugged his shoulders a little. "I don't know. I've gone from no freedom to tons of it. I really should go to school, but I can't very well go back to my old one. I'm probably a runaway or something. Kinda weird, knowing I have to change everything in life." He sighs to himself, and pushes his sandy hair out of his face. "I guess day by day." Having a plan means things could go wrong, but without a plan it felt like he was floating aimlessly. Honestly, all he wanted to do was to get to know Hannibal better, but he had no clue how to go about asking, nor what to ask. 

"Well, that is quite the dilemma. Now is another one of those times I mentioned. The ones when you have to ask yourself, "Am I willing to live my life running away?" I've run from my past since I was younger than you my boy. No matter how far, how fast I flee, it catches me the moment I lay my head down at night." The pained look returned to his eyes, but just as quickly as it had come, it faded into the murky haze, and his fatherly expression returned to him. He was worried he had scared the boy. As far as he was concerned, Lucas had lived in fear for long enough, but he also knew that if one lived with it long enough, it was all they knew in life.

Fear and rage, scraping the rusted metal box that was your mind for those last few untarnished speckles of sanity before you went to sleep every night, hoping for the sake of those around you that they lit your way through the night and lasted til morning. Hannibal's had burnt out long ago, but some part of his human side seemed to return upon meeting Lucas, and it had become his goal to preserve the innocence of the young boy come Hell or high water. The last thing the world needed was another Hannibal Lecter. 

His hands had tightened on the bag he held, just a little, just enough to show that the gears within his head were turns more rapidly than before. After a moment of his dark hazel eyes locked with Hannibal's odd maroon ones, he nodded a bit. "I don't want to be a coward, and I don't like to see it as running. More like not looking back." It's how he justifies it, at least for now. It's how he managed to get to sleep last night. 

Hannibal knew better than to take such a thing away from a person, and as cold as he may have been he refused to speak the difficult truth to the child before him. "Very well then. You don't have to call me _dad_, sir, or Dr. Lecter. Just call me Hannibal. I'll teach you what I can, but the rest is up to you my boy." He smiled warmly at him and unlocked the passenger door for him, disappeared around the back of the car and settled into the driver's seat. It had been many years since he had endured such an intense conversation, in fact he couldn't remember exactly when it was he had last spoken of his personal demons. As always, the current issues plaguing him were erased and forgotten almost instantly. 

Lucas settled in, though his mind was buzzing with not only the conversation, but Hannibal reassuring him that he didn't have to call him dad. Was that normal? Was he supposed to be doing that this whole time? Would Hannibal be upset that Lucas didn't call him 'dad'? He gripped at his knees and his body tightened though he seemed far away, looking at nothing and going over the multitude of questions that suddenly were popping up within his mind. 

Hannibal managed to escape into the depths of his mind as they drove home. He had mastered the ability to tune the outside world out completely, both physically and mentally. If anything kept him alive it was knowing how to do this. It wasn't until they were back in his home that he spoke again. "There should be hangars in the closet, and plenty of drawer space in the dresser beside the bed. I think I'll head out back. I'd like a cigarillo and some wine." 

Lucas nodded to Hannibal, his voice dragging him back out of the recesses of his mind. Lucas gathered up his bag, and assumed that by Hannibal telling him this, he didn't want him around, so he just waited for Hannibal to unlock the front door and then Lucas would disappear into his room, and wait for Hannibal to tell him it was time for dinner, or to seek him out for something. Lucas was very good at the out of sight, out of mind game


	2. Chapter 2

Hannibal collected his thoughts over the course of his single glass of red wine and cherry cigarillo, silent and deep in thought for nearly an hour after he had finished the two. It was a complicated situation, and demanded far more care than his usual predicaments as there was a child involved.

Within a week he had managed to gather the necessary documents for both custody of Lucas and a school transfer. It was easy enough. All he had to do was contact a few ex-patients who worked in the relevant fields and no more than 3 days later, he had what he needed. It was 6am on Monday morning when he knocked on Lucas' door to give him the news. He had managed to get him enrolled in a decent private school, more low profile than the higher end ones, but with the same opportunities and high quality education.

"Lucas, time to wake up. I'll be taking you to register for school today." It was odd for him to be so domestic, to knock on a door in his own home, to cook for two and above all simply living with another person. The only thing that remained unchanged was his work, but something told him that this would change eventually. 

Lucas had started to relax into his new life. He slept under the covers, and had given in with getting more than just one pair of jeans and a shirt. He finally had pajamas and a more suitable wardrobe. He got up out of bed, and opened the door while still rubbing at his eyes and looking half asleep. "What? Mmm, school? How'd you get me into school?" he asked, yawning into the inside of his arm, his hair a mess and the pajama top tugged awkwardly to one side on his frame. 

Hannibal smiled within his mind at the funny, childish image before him. To think that the terrified little boy he had found in an alley, covered in his own blood had become the messy little boy before him. It was quite a relief. "I'll explain on the way. We aren't due to meet the headmaster until 8am, so you have plenty of time to prepare." He smiled softly at Lucas and made his way down the hall and into the kitchen to prepare breakfast while Lucas got ready. 

Lucas sighed to himself and called an affirmative to Hannibal. Twenty minutes later found him in the kitchen, showered and dressed, socks hanging out of his pocket as he kept his shoes by the door. He slowly eased himself into his regular chair at the table, still looking a bit tired but far more awake than he had when Hannibal woke him up. "So you won't explain anything until we're in the car?" he asks, his voice teasing slightly to show Hannibal he meant no disrespect. He was still cautious in many regards, but he had eased up a whole lot since Hannibal had first taken him in. 

Hannibal smirked at him as he set his plate in front of him. He decided on savory crepes this morning, a side of yogurt and their usual coffee. "I suppose I could explain over breakfast." He set his own plate and took his seat beside Lucas before he continued. "It only took a few phone calls to acquire the paperwork. I know a man who works in social services and know the headmaster under professional circumstances." He was bound by doctor-patient confidentiality to refrain from outing him as a patient, but Hannibal had a way with words. He could admit to murder during his own trial, but thanks to his ability to phrase things in the most vague and indirect manner, he could walk out an innocent man. 

Lucas looked at Hannibal with one cheek full of crepe. He knew better than to speak with his mouth full, however, so he tried to convey his shock by just a look. Instead of the intended effect, it merely looked comical. 

Hannibal laughed quietly over his mug of coffee, and once it ceased he took a sip. The more childish Lucas became, the more he seemed to grow on Lecter. He returned to his breakfast without a word, just waiting for a reply. 

Lucas narrowed his eyes slightly, and tried to act as if this was totally normal, and finally he managed to finish chewing the far-too-large bite he had taken. "So, what, am I your kid now officially?" he asked, his voice cautious, his hands wrapped around his mug of coffee and confusion still written on his face. 

Hannibal let out a small grunt of a laugh in amusement. It hadn't yet set in that he was now a father, be it foster parent or not, that was the case. "Yes, I am now your legal guardian. I can forfeit custody to your mother if you ever decide to return to her, however. It wouldn't take any longer than a few months." He wanted Lucas to understand that he had all the authority in this matter, that he was in charge of where he stayed, all the while maintaining the mutual understanding that when he was living with Hannibal that he was to listen to him. 

"Oh, sure. Once she divorces my dad. Don't see that happening." He relaxed back, for just a moment, and then he straightened again. "Wait... I know there's no way you went to their place and got them to sign me over. How did you get me?" He acts as if he is nothing more than a chair, or maybe a car. Something that can be sold and owned. 

Hannibal tilted his head at Lucas in amusement. "You really are a sharp young man aren't you?" He sipped his coffee once again and paused for several seconds while he formulated a proper response. "I suppose there's no point in lying. The documents were forged, though they are official. It's not the worst I've done I assure you." His way of comforting people was always more unnerving than reassuring. Frankly he found the reactions he received to be entertaining. 

Lucas slowly perked a brow, glancing over Hannibal as if he had never seen him before. "What's the worse thing you've done? Isn't forging documents a felony?" He took another bite of crepe while he waited for Hannibal to respond. 

Hannibal sighed with distaste and finished off his coffee. "I believe that's enough for one morning." He knew Lucas was ready to go, and with over an hour of waiting left, he didn't know what to do with himself. More than likely he would find a good book to read while he let the minutes tick by. Anything was better than sitting in awkward silence. 

Lucas always backed down to Hannibal and his ending conversations. Even after breakfast, and him washing the dishes and finishing his coffee, he realized they still had almost an hour left. "You couldn't have let me sleep in or something?" Again his voice holds that teasing to show he isn't complaining. 

"Well, I assumed you'd want to be wide awake for the interview. I would have told you it was was a private school in advance but I'm afraid that would have ruined the surprise." Hannibal breathed a sigh of relief at the fact they were having a normal conversation. He had genuinely intended for the matter of private school to be a pleasant surprise and hoped it would go over well. 

"Private as in 'really expensive' or private as in 'Christian'?" he asked, though he looked quite interested in the idea of private school. He had only been in public schools thus far, and assumed that private schools were better with bullies and fights than public school. 

Hannibal scoffed playfully. "Now now boy, do you take me for a fool? Education and religion should always remain separate." He didn't give his opinion on religion, though it must have been clear he saw it as a waste of time and energy. 

"If I thought you were a fool I would have run the hell away from here." He folded his arms over his chest, smiling at Hannibal. "You're the least foolish person I know." He smiles a little more, happy to have Hannibal in his life. 

Hannibal smiled softly at the compliment. It wasn't often he received a genuine, personal compliment. Usually it was some grad-student brown nosing to rise in the ranks or some nobody professor out to stack credibility onto their dying reputation. He had grown tired of the constant pretension that floated around him, so the slightest genuine compliment meant all the world to him. "Thank you. Really, thank you. That means more to me than you know." He stood up from the table and grabbed his keys from the kitchen drawer, then turned to Lucas to confirm he was ready to leave. "What would you say to a short drive before we head to the school?" 

Lucas blinked, and realized for the first time that Hannibal just might have a darker past than Lucas originally thought. He nodded to Hannibal, and got on his socks while following him to the front door. He shoved his shoes on, and did up the laces in the car. Lucas settled back in his seat, looking up at Hannibal with his attentive, want-to-please look. It was the most childish he looked, whenever he wanted to do as Hannibal asked, to follow his subtle ques and directions. 

"Forgive me for the rush. Sometimes a good drive relaxes me in ways a walk cannot." Hannibal turned on the radio for Lucas to listen to as they drove. It had become habit, and a regular part of his home education. Music was only the beginning. Eventually he would teach the boy anatomy, psychology, art and the basic sciences. He was a well learned man with much to offer a child. His image of Lucas' future was a bright one, full of success and happiness, at least that was what he hoped for him to attain. 

Lucas was starting to learn the styles of the different composers they heard most often. He could pick out measures of theirs without hearing the song before, and he seemed very keen on it. He never seemed bothered by Hannibal and his drives or his walks or his cigarillo and wine. Lucas was happy to remain in the background and let Hannibal clear his mind. Even if he was there, as he had once come out with Hannibal for his cigarillo, he quiet and nearly motionless, taking the time to clear his mind as well. He looked up at Hannibal, tilting his head a bit. "Are you nervous?" He worried that if Hannibal felt the need to relax, it meant he was nervous. And if Hannibal of all people in this world was nervous, it would make Lucas quite a bit more than nervous. It would almost make him terrified. 

Hannibal kept his gaze dead ahead, but answered promptly as always. "Oh, no. Like everyone my mind races at times. I just need a few moments to quiet it down." He let a weak smile crack across his lips and kept his eyes on the road, falling completely silent. 

Lucas visibly relaxed. "Good. I was worried there." It was all he said before falling silent for Hannibal, listening to the music and the engine of the car. He glanced out the windows, diligent but also enjoying the ability to just lose himself into the world passing him by. He would wait to see if Hannibal would speak to him before they got to the school. He hoped he would, Hannibal's voice calmed him down. He wasn't sure why, but he knew that Hannibal would protect him. Some how, he knew. So his voice reminded him that he was there. 

Lecter remained silent for a majority of the ride, but about five minutes from the school he decided to give Lucas a pep talk. "I know it's difficult to change everything so quickly. I don't expect you to fit in, to stay out of trouble or fall in line with the rest. What I do expect is for you to give your best effort, and if you make a mistake be honest. I detest lying almost as much as I detest rudeness." He glanced over at Lucas with a playful grin, though he made it obvious that he was serious. 

Lucas hunched his shoulders up a bit until Hannibal offered him a grin. Lucas smiled back and relaxed his shoulders, licking his lips. He nods to Hannibal, his silent promise. He settled in his seat a little more. "I don't know how much I can do about trouble. It seems to follow me where ever I go." 

Hannibal laughed heartily as he pulled into the driveway and put the car in park. "My boy, trust me when I say I know how you feel. Now, let's get this over with, shall we?" He wasn't sure how Lucas would feel about wearing a uniform to school, but in his opinion it didn't matter. Clothing was simply situational. Some situations called for a suit, tie and jacket, while others required a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt. They were merely tools for one's tasks. 

Lucas glanced out to the school for a few moments, took a breath, and slowly nodded. "Yeah, alright." He got out of the car and made sure to lock his door while he waited for Hannibal to get out as well. He seems fairly excited, though it's obvious he is quite nervous as well. He bites his lip and plays with a thread on his jeans. 

Hannibal walked beside Lucas the entire way and patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. "No need to fidget. I assure you they are all posture and very little back bone. You'll do just fine." He kept his eyes straight ahead, taking no notice of anyone in particular, but aware of every last person in the hall. 

Lucas nodded a bit, but shrugged his shoulders. "I can't help it. I'll relax soon enough, but for right now I'll just hide behind you." He is teasing, slightly, but he also sounds very genuine. Once in the office he actually does hide behind Hannibal a bit, but trying to make it obvious he wasn't. 

Hannibal moved aside so the headmaster could see Lucas completely, and after he shook hands with the man, greeted him with a 'Good to see you again' and stepped further aside so that Lucas could formally introduce himself. "This is my son, Lucas." The headmaster gave Hannibal a peculiar look and then greeted the boy. "Pleased to meet you. I was unaware that Dr. Lecter had any children." 

Lucas masked his surprise at being called Hannibal's son quite well, and he shook hands with the headmaster. Lucas couldn't think of a good excuse on the fly why no one would know about him, so he offered a slight shrug. "Pleased to meet you as well, Sir." said Lucas, his voice holding the respect Hannibal had already taught him. 

Lecter gave Lucas a proud look, then turned his attention back to the headmaster. "So, we're here to discuss his enrollment. I believe you had some questions before we filled out the paperwork." Naturally he began to lead the conversation. It was partly his nature, and partly thanks to the fact that the man before him was a former patient.

"Ah, well I did, but I believe I've seen all I need to see. After all, he is _your_ boy, so I think all that's left is the paperwork." Hannibal smirked at his words. It was all so strange, and in ways amusing. He had gone from a lonely, tormented man who was drifting through life with no real sense of purpose to a proud father, mentoring a boy of limitless potential. 

Lucas glanced up at Hannibal, finding this whole thing half odd, half uplifting. He wondered if Hannibal was starting to see him as some type of son already. Lucas knew he saw Hannibal as a good fatherly figure, but he wasn't sure if he would ever call him 'Dad'. It seemed odd, and made him squirm a bit. He was happy to sit back and be seen not heard. He let the adults talk, and kept an ear on the conversation just to know what exactly was happening with him at the school, when he would be starting and such. 

"Well then, I'll leave you to it." Hannibal stood up from his seat and smiled down at Lucas reassuringly. "The headmaster will give you a tour of the school. I have some errands to run, so I'll be by to pick you up at 3pm." He set his hand on Lucas' shoulder in his fatherly manner and offered him a smile once more. "Everything will be fine, I assure you." 

Lucas nodded to Hannibal and let him head off. He was nervous still, but he knew he would be fine. He watched Hannibal leave before turning back to the headmaster, and then followed him around the school. No one ever liked that kid who showed up in the middle of class, and he felt it instantly as he was finally brought to his first class, slightly behind everyone else. Despite his age they were already placing him into 6th grade, and he was fine with that. He was also happy that he had math first, as math was very easy for him. He'd do his best for Hannibal, and ignored the stares from the other, older boys. 

Hannibal found it somewhat difficult to focus on his business in town. He stopped by his office to grab a few files to review, and as he thumbed through them in his car, couldn't help but feel a twinge of worry for Lucas. What if things didn't go well. What if the other boys picked at him just the wrong way, the way they had at Hannibal and Lucas lost his composure. He wasn't too worried about Lucas getting hurt, rather, he was worried about the heavy charges that would be brought up if he maimed one of the other students. He laughed to himself quietly at the idea, and did his best to push it out of his mind. There was no point in stressing over matters which he had no control.

Three o'clock came quickly, and he found himself looking through crowds of children swarming to get home. He smirked to himself as he equated them to several types of livestock, quietly amused by his own predatory mind. 

Lucas seemed to have the same predatory mind, as he walked off to one side and the way he observed the others made him look like a wolf waiting in the wings, waiting for one of them to be sickly or slow in order to pick off a quick kill. He spotted Hannibal and shifted through the crowds with ease, though he wasn't given a wide birth. He stopped next to Hannibal and smiled. "You're always on time, aren't you?" he asked, keeping just a tad closer than normal to him.

He didn't particularly like public areas, and Hannibal always made him feel safe. One thing Lucas really picked up on was they people glanced at Hannibal in a way that told him his name was known, as was his face. 

Hannibal kept his eyes dead ahead as he spoke. Watching Lucas move through the crowds gave him a new confidence in the boy. "Yes. If I'm so much as one minute late my arrival is always followed by a humble apology." He didn't enjoy the stares that followed him. They didn't make him uncomfortable, but it was quite annoying. Being proven innocent didn't seem to be enough to be seen as innocent, and the way he glanced back at them, as if to let them know that the roles were reversed and they were the prey, not him, didn't help matters. It was his his way of letting them know that he was not to be quarreled with, and a majority of the time it worked. 

Lucas smiled to himself, and lightly touched Hannibal's hand to pull his attention away from the other people. The parents of other children seemed the most interested, and Lucas was just happy he had Hannibal to hide next to once again. And maybe he missed him a little bit. Lucas told himself he didn't, but if his body language was any indication, he was already quite close to Hannibal, and happy to have him at his side. 

Hannibal's arm tensed at the light touch. He wasn't used to the tiny hands of children randomly grabbing at him, but managed to relax almost instantly regardless of the matter. "So, how was your first day?" 

"It was fine. A little awkward, but nothing bad happened or anything." He let go of Hannibal's hand when he tensed, and allowed his hands to return to his side. "The work is easy enough. If I fail any classes it'll be thanks to laziness," he commented with a shrug of his shoulders and a smile. 

Hannibal smirked down at him as he unlocked the car door. "I shall have to remember that." He laughed softly as he pulled open the door for him. "However, I don't believe you're the type of person to fail." 

"We'll see. I could get lazy." He smiled and got into the car, settling down and tucking his backpack by his feet. "Thanks for picking me up." Lucas was used to walking home, and he could tell that Hannibal's place wasn't too far away, as they had purposefully driven out of the way to calm both their minds. Lucas would pay attention to the way he took to get home so he could walk. Lucas never really minded having to walk. If anything, it kept up his strength for when he would overthrow his father. 

Hannibal had a happy air about him as he drove home. "It's my pleasure. I won't be able to do this every day, but I'll let you know on the days I can." The next couple of days went smoothly, his patients annoying him with superficial issues as usual. Sexual tension built up after nearly a year of neglect from a cheating wife, not having lived up to their expectations of themselves, and a convicted child molester who was fresh out of prison. Hannibal was deeply considering eating the three of them, but found himself trying to determine who would remain a long term patient. The way he figured, it was best to pick off the ones who would quit the soonest.

He was sitting in his office waiting for his next patient when his secretary called to him from outside the office. "Dr. Lecter, the headmaster at your son's school is on the phone. He says it's urgent." Hannibal had a look of surprise for a split second, but instantly accepted that he had seen this coming. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and sighed heavily. "Thank you dear. Please put him through." He stared down at the phone in annoyance. He didn't prefer the headmaster, in fact he found everything about him to be distasteful. The only reason he had been pleasant with the man was for the sake of Lucas' education. 

Lucas hadn't been doing anything, not really. It was just a matter of testing the new kid, and Lucas had mopped the floor with two of the 4 boys who had ganged up on him. But his still on the mend nose was broken yet again, and he had several bruises on him. The headmaster was looking at all 5 boys as he spoke, one of them was drooling blood onto his jeans and Lucas snickered at him. "Your boy got into quite the fight today." said the headmaster, his voice holding annoyance. 

Hannibal kept a casual tone, though he was quietly amused. "Did he show restraint?" He realized afterwords that the best question would have been 'Is he hurt?' but the thought came too late. 

The headmaster bit back asking 'what' in too harsh a tone, but as he glanced over at Lucas he shook his head. "I should say not. He was quite vicious." Lucas had been smart, and quickly found weaknesses in his enemies. Granted, it had started as an unfair fight, and Lucas was merely trying to even the odds in his favor. 

Hannibal's voice turned to the snakelike hiss it tended to when he was agitated. "If there was more than one boy fighting him, then I'd say he had no reason to show any kind of composure." He continued on, giving the headmaster no chance to speak. "You and I both know how children can be, and I know Lucas well enough to tell you he's not the type of person to start a fight. You can't honestly blame him for defending himself?" He had an authoritative, parental tone with him. Lecter was not one to be told what to do, and the fact that the headmaster was a former patient of his irritated him just a bit more than usual. 

That shut him up quite quickly for a few moments. He waited and then spoke cautiously, "I understand he is your son, Dr. Lecter, but I am going to be speaking to the parents of all the children involved. I'd prefer to send him home for the day, if you'd be able to gather him." Lucas shrank down in his chair and a few of the boys laughed quietly at him. 

"I see. I expect the lot of them to be equally punished, unless of course you'd like your credentials revoked. You and I both know who will win in a war of wits, Headmaster." Hannibal snickered into the phone, his metallic voice becoming more and more menacing with every exchange of words.

He knew too well how weak minded people were, children and adults alike, forming groups to fell one person they each felt threatened by in one way or another. Lecter had no guarantee that his threats would work, nor that the bullies who were tormenting Lucas would be brought to justice, but he did know that if things continued the way they were, he would be enjoying another liver dinner in the near future. 

"Of course. I am sending the lot home and speaking to all their parents. If it happens again, it'll be a suspension for the remainder of the week." He does not like Hannibal's voice, but he also doesn't want to show any weakness in front of his students. "If you would please come down here and collect him." He just wants to get off the phone with Hannibal. He always makes him a bit uneasy. 

Hannibal smiled to himself triumphantly. He spoke through a grin and replied with a voice like a knife running over silk. "I'll be there in half an hour. Tah tah." He set the phone down and gathered his coat and hat, then headed for the door. After he confirmed the remainder of his appointments would be canceled, he made his way down to the school and into the office with a purposeful stride.

He had a look of revenge in his eyes, and as he entered the room, the four boys who had ganged up on Lucas held there breath and tensed in their seats. "Good afternoon, headmaster." He stood between Lucas, the boys across the room and the headmaster, vigilant and protective over Lucas. He was the lion, Lucas was his cub and these were the jackals who would be taught a much needed lesson, at least that was how he saw it. 

Lucas was happy to have Hannibal there, and he actually brushed his shoulder against Hannibal's ribs as he tucked near him. The boys looked quite startled at Hannibal, and all four of them came out quite badly, and it was obvious to see the order Lucas had gone through with them. The weakest of the lot of them only had a few bruises on his face, but the strongest looked like he very well could have a concussion of some sort, and one of his eyes was swollen shut. Lucas, on the other had, had a split by his brow, and in his lip, some bruising on his cheek and blood from his nose on his white shirt. He also held himself to be careful with his ribs, as if he had taken at the very least a few blows there. 

Hannibal kept his pride in Lucas' abilities well hidden. He glanced over the other four boys as he set his arm around his shoulders to reassure him, then back to the headmaster. "I'll be heading off with Lucas now. Thank you for letting him off with a warning." He guided Lucas to the door and turned to face the headmaster. Even at his worst he displayed good manners. "Have a lovely day." He waited for a reply, being far too proper to part informally. 

The headmaster, who just looked like a boy caught wearing his father's work jacket, just awkwardly said, "You too." Lucas licked at the cut on his lip and just waited for Hannibal to go all parental, though his arm around his shoulders did help, surprisingly. 

Lecter waited until they were in the car and on their way back home to say anything about what had happened. He turned down the radio and spoke with a soft, but authoritative voice. "I'll start by saying I am disappointed that you're already missing out on what could be a wonderful education." He sighed softly and glanced over at Lucas with a fatherly smile as they reached a stoplight. "But I am very proud of you for standing up for yourself. I must say I'm impressed with how well you took care of those boys." 

Lucas had tensed as soon as the radio was turned down, but then he glanced over at Hannibal, surprised. It took him a few moments to figure out the right words, but he finally questioned, "You're proud and impressed I beat up some guys?" He was ignoring the fact they were all at least a year older than him, which made quiet the difference, and the fact they started things off. He was just shocked as his own parents often yelled at him for even defending himself. 

"Whether you started the fight or not, you defended yourself against four boys who are clearly older than you and came out with nothing more than a few scrapes. I would say that's commendable." Hannibal looked over at him once again and smiled in his usual fatherly way. "I'm not condoning you fighting, but if you are in a bad spot, do what is necessary to get out. No more, no less." To his relief the light turned green, and they would be home shortly. 

Lucas took in a deep breath. Hannibal wasn't mad at him, and that was what mattered. He watched the way home, like he always did, burning the path into his memory. He slowly got out of the car once they were home, looking annoyed by the blood on his white shirt. "I hope you didn't have to cancel too many patients on my account."

Hannibal sighed and started for the door. "No, only two, and I'm sure they'll understand." He glanced down at Lucas to assess the damage as he unlocked the front door. "Let's patch you up now, shall we?" 

Lucas nodded to Hannibal, and followed him inside, getting off his shoes and his backpack. He settled on the closed lid of the toilet like he had before so Hannibal could fix him up. Lucas was fairly obedient, at least with Hannibal. 

Hannibal looked over his nose and eye while he prepared the cloth and bandages, and let out a soft breath to calm himself. It was a habit of his to clear his mind and find a quiet place within it to meditate through his work. "Lucas I hate to say this but I believe your nose might be broken again. I'll have to wait a few days to set it again. I won't risk fragmenting the bone any further." He locked eyes with him as he dabbed at the cut on his eyebrow, and as quickly as the cloth had contacted the wound, had a butterfly bandage secured over it, clamping it together tightly. "Make sure to use a bit of wet tissue to get out the dried blood, and in a few days I'll reset that nose of yours." 

Lucas frowned. "Is it easier to break once it's already broken or something?" he asked. He was almost pouting, but he didn't seem too horribly bothered by it all. He was not at all happy with the idea of his nose being left broken for a few days, but he didn't say anything. 

Hannibal always found Lucas' curiosity amusing. He offered him a small smile as he got to work on rinsing out the rag. "Well, consider the fact that the bone has already been cracked, and that the flesh and muscle around the area are still tender. If it hasn't been given a chance to heal correctly, then that bone becomes weaker with every break. In your case, it's only had a little over a week to heal. Your nose was still in the early stages of healing when those boys hit you." He smiled softly at Lucas, a proud look about him. He knew that had the boy's nose been completely healed he would have come out of the fight with minimal injuries. 

Lucas nodded to show he understood, and once Hannibal was done with him he slid off the toilet lid. "That sucks," he commented, rubbing slightly at his knuckles. He smiles a little at Hannibal, and waits for him to dismiss him or speak further. He didn't like to just walk away from Hannibal without being properly sent away. 

Hannibal cringed slightly at the phrase 'that sucks' but said nothing. Between Lucas' childish smile and his hope that his own manner of speaking would assimilate with the boy's he couldn't in good conscience bring himself to correct him. "Yes, it is rather bothersome, but if your treat your injuries well, they can form callous and the bone will become stronger. Think of it in terms of layers. The more callous you have, the more layered the bone becomes, making it more difficult to break." He stepped out of the bathroom once he was finished wiping off his hands and gestured down the hall, offering for him to do as he pleased for the afternoon. 

Lucas nodded to show he understood, and some part of him found Hannibal's cringe amusing. He snagged his backpack from by the door, and settled down by the coffee table. He generally didn't do anything until after he was done with his homework. Lucas was work driven. and didn't like leaving tasks uncompleted. He remained that way all through middle school, even through his fights and his annoyances. He got into more than his fair share of fights, and had taken to walking home at some point during his 7th grade year. He had grown closer to Hannibal, and had grown up a bit. His speech improved and he had learned to copy a lot of Hannibal's movements.

It was a week before high school was to start, and Lucas was resting back in his chair at the table, waiting to see what Hannibal would make for lunch. Lucas was in his teens now, and he had quite happily relaxed into his life here. His old family never looked for him it seemed, and no one ever glanced twice at him when Hannibal called him his son. He was actually starting to see things that way, though he still had yet to call Hannibal 'Dad' nor reference him as his father, except for to school officials. He had made a few friends through middle school, and they would be continuing on to high school together. He some times went to their houses, and had finally told Hannibal when his birthday was, which had only passed by a week ago. 

Hannibal had grown accustomed to Lucas living with him, though it hadn't been easy. Through it all he managed not to say anything about the stress, as he had made the choice to take the boy in and refused to give up on him. He was growing close to him, and quickly began to feel like a real father. The most interesting part of it all was that he rarely seemed to kill anymore. His murderous habits hadn't stopped all together, but with every passing year they seemed to fade just a little bit more.

He had bought Lucas a razor for his birthday, as he was now in his teens and would need something to shave with. It was a DOVO, complete with a badger hair brush with an ivory handle, porcelain cup, a new bar of lather, a strop and a hone. He set the five boxes on the counter beside his lunch, a smile on his face. "I hope you enjoy this as much as you need it. I'll teach you how to use it later this evening." 

Lucas tilted his head, and smiled to himself. "You don't like the scruffy look, huh?" It could hardly be called a scruffy look, his jaw had some slightly longer and thicker hair than before, and he was getting a mustache, but it was still fairly lightly. He knew, however, that Hannibal enjoyed things clean and pleasing to the eye, and looking unkempt wouldn't be something he would go for. Lucas just couldn't help teasing him on this one. He smiles to Hannibal to show he is just teasing, and touches the side of the razor. "Thank you," he said, his voice honest, as was his smile. 

Hannibal smirked at him as he fixed his own plate. Spaghetti with meatballs, sourdough bread, a spinach salad and a glass of red wine for each of them. He made no comment on the wine, as it was normal for him having grown up in Europe. Children were given wine from a very early age on special occasions, it just hadn't occurred to him over the past four years to offer him any. "You are most welcome. Happy belated birthday." 

One brow perked at the wine, but he just accepted it. He smiled and shifted his things carefully to one side in order to focus on his food. He relaxed a bit into his chair, and after watching Hannibal with wine for years, knew exactly how to treat it. Oddly enough, the taste didn't seem too sharp or too heavy or bitter. He was checking it, holding it against his tongue, and then seemed quite content with it. "I have to admit, I didn't expect wine to taste like this." He touched the glass stem lightly to indicate what he meant. 

Hannibal laughed softly as he took a small sip of his wine. "This one in particular is over two hundred years old. You won't taste many like it." He only opened the bottle for special occasions, even if he did have two more in his cellar. Had he been in the company of desirable people more often, he would likely have finished off his reserve years ago. 

Lucas choked slightly on his spaghetti. "It's what?" he asked, his voice tight and his eyes tearing slightly. "You opened up a 200 year old bottle of wine to pair with spaghetti? Hannibal..." He looked at him like he was nuts. 

Hannibal perked his brow at Lucas in disbelief. "It's your birthday. I don't think the pairing matters if you're enjoying one of your favorite meals." He had never heard such a complaint out of him before. It was almost startling. 

Lucas laughed softly, rubbing at the back of his neck. "It's just.. It's expensive and it's just spaghetti." He held up his hands. "I appreciate it, greatly, but god, I don't feel worthy of 200 year old wine." He rolled his shoulders a little and smirked at Hannibal. "Besides, wouldn't this be best used to woo some lady friend of yours?" he teased. 

Hannibal laughed heartily and leaned back in his chair with an amused look. "I can think of very few foods that I would prefer with this wine, and so far as _wooing_ some lady friend, romance isn't something I'm particularly interested in at the moment." He returned to his meal with a smile. It seemed that Lucas was becoming a fine young man after all. Aside from the fighting, everything appeared to be working out nicely. 

"But my development," he says with a teasing air of misery. "How ever will I become a functioning member of society without a mother figure present?" Thankfully, this was the extent of Lucas and his teasing, generally. He never bothered Hannibal, particularly not when he was working. He did his home work every night, and during the summer he would exercise his mind in other ways. He had gone through most of Hannibal's library already, and had fallen in love with his music. He helped around the house and held himself with a pride he didn't know he could ever have. His confidence was high and he always obeyed Hannibal. However, he was still a teenager, and he still liked to poke fun at Hannibal here and there.

Hannibal decided he had fed into the playfulness enough. He settled in his chair just enough to relax through the remainder of his meal. He had almost lost track of time during his conversation with Lucas, and was now only two hours from his dinner date. "Happy birthday kiddo." He ruffled Lucas' hair and headed up the stairs without another word. Being around Lucas had thrown him a bit off kilter, and he found himself having to flush his mind of any sense of openess or vulnerability. An hour later he was dressed from head to toe in his favorite and fines suit, solid black with a linen undershirt and red silk tie. His shoes were the softest of leather, handcrafted and struck the ground silently thanks to the equally soft soles. His wrist watch was of solid white gold, and the cufflinks of his jacket were a well polished silver. Hannibal stopped at the bottom of the stairs and drew in a slow, relaxing breath as he washed himself of any humanity that remained. 

Lucas had watched Hannibal get prepared to go out somewhere before. He never knew where, exactly, Hannibal was going, but he had learned that unless Hannibal said something to him in advance, he wasn't invited. "Gonna take me up on that landing chicks thing?" he called to his adoptive father from the top of the stairs. Generally, as Lucas heard movement, he inspected it. 

Haninbal paused briefly before replying and slipped on his hat and coat that were hung over his arm. He squinted at the phrase 'landing chicks' but made a point not to let Lucas see. "Behave yourself while I'm out. Dinner should be in the fridge." He descended the final step and moved out the door like a breeze rolling through the house. 

Lucas enjoyed what he considered his free time, though it didn't take long before it was boring. He found himself eating not even an hour later. Hannibal had taught him too well to just leave a mess hanging around, so Lucas took it upon himself to clean up the kitchen. By the time he was done with that he realized he would be left alone for quite a while longer and he would have to figure something out. By the time Hannibal was on his way home Lucas was sprawled on the couch, a book covering his chest. 

Hannibal had wrapped up the dinner within a few hours, and had finished carving what appealed most to him out of the rather belligerent district attorney in a little over half that time. He walked through the door with a small cooler in one hand, his keys in the other, still clad in his leather gloves. There were small flecks of blood across his sleeves, though the gloves were completely clean. The last thing he wanted was blood on the interior of his car. He made no announcement of his return, as he knew there was no need. It seemed Lucas' awareness was becoming as high as his own. 

Lucas had actually been scared, for a moment, as all he heard was someone coming through the door. He carefully peaked over the couch, trying to be as silent as possible. His dark hazel eyes narrowed in curiosity at the cooler in Hannibal's hand. What could he possibly need a cooler for? He couldn't see the blood from this distance, however. 

Hannibal looked over at Lucas' out of the corner of his eyes from under his hat. "I hope you weren't too bored while I was away. I assure you it was far more dull dining with the company I was forced to entertain than the most uneventful day here." He smirked at the small figure in the darkness and made his way to the kitchen, tightly grasping the cooler. 

"Nah, I was reading..." he glanced at the book, "Er... Cicero." He shrugged his shoulders, stretched a bit, and got up. "Was it really that boring?" he asked, resting against the wall of the kitchen. He scrubbed at his eyes and it made it obvious he had been asleep for at least an hour, if not a few. 

Hannibal absentmindedly replied as he carefully removed his gloves and coat. Luckily the blood was dried, so he was able to set them on the counter out of Lucas' view. "Yes, yes it was." His low grumble sounded more like he was speaking to himself than another person. Lecter's voice was still icy and raked at the ears, the voice of a predator hissing gently against its predator's neck. "You must be exhausted. Wash up and get ready for bed. Breakfast at eight, as usual." He tended to get so wrapped up in his work that he became dismissive with Lucas, though he still had a trace of the fatherly tone he only took with him.

Lucas found his manner odd, and felt something heavy and cold falling to rest in his stomach. "But... But you just got back," whispered Lucas, rubbing at his arm with his head down a bit. He was showing submission, as he didn't want to anger Hannibal at all. He was worried, nervous, but not scared. He just wanted to be around Hannibal, to hear how his dinner went, and hopefully to get him to speak normally. What if someone did something to Hannibal? Lucas was very concerned. He knew some people feared and hated him. 

Hannibal sighed quietly and cast his eyes down in consideration. "Have a seat. I'll only take a moment." He removed the lid of the cooler and set it face up in the sink as he began running the water in the opposite side. He rinsed the liver first, the pancreas after, and finally the two tender bits of muscle from the lower middle back, his personal favorite. 

Lucas settled, but watched Hannibal with the eye of someone trying to calculate and learn. He could see red from the sink, and he narrowed his eyes a little. His hands tightened a bit on the counter as he mentally went over the day, over Hannibal and the blood on his sleeves he could see now. Lucas swallowed a bit hard and leaned in just a little, even if he was on the other side of the room almost. "Hannibal, is that... human?" He didn't really sound disgusted, just shocked and confused. 

Hannibal paused in place for a few seconds and stared at the wall above the sink blankly. He turned slowly and turned off the sink before he rested his back against the counter. "Now what makes you say that?" His eyes were cold and gloomy, glossed over with a thick haze of rage. To someone who had never met Lecter, this appearance would seem blank, even sociopathic, but to someone who knew him well, it was a swirling storm of emotions conflicting with one another, only intensifying the one that followed. 

Lucas lowered himself a bit, putting him closer to the counter. Lucas had gotten used to showing submission to attempt to diffuse situations with his father. At reusing the skill he felt a bit sick to his stomach. "The size... at least from what I can see. And I can kind of smell it from here. It smells too metallic to not be human." His voice his low and quiet, careful with each word he says. Lucas seems worried Hannibal might lash out. 

Hannibal sighed and cast his eyes down and to the side in a disappointed way. "I suppose this may create an issue." He moved the now packaged organs into the freezer, rinsed his hands and made his way over to Lucas all in less than thirty seconds. He took his usual seat beside the boy and folded his hands on the counter as he spoke. "So, now that you see me for what I truly am does it change your opinion of me? Is the warm image of the misunderstood father figure's paint drying and flaking away, only to reveal the monstrosity beneath?" His tone was as smooth as honey, but somewhere underneath was the usual rake and bite of a snake's hiss. 

Lucas furrowed his brows and tilted his head. "No. I thought you'd be mad at me." His muscles are beginning to relax already. Hannibal doesn't seem mad with him at all. Lucas doesn't lift himself from his vulnerable position, not yet. He is watching and making sure that it isn't a ploy. 

Hannibal let out a sinister chuckle. "My dear boy, I could never be angry with you for paying attention to my lessons." He fell silent after that, quickly escaping back into his thoughts. His posture was a bit more relaxed now, in fact it was almost sullen. Somewhere in the back of his mind he worried that Lucas would flee home, turn him in to the authorities and that not only would he be forced to live on the run once again, but he would lose the one bit of normality he had gained in life. Whether he liked it or not, he was close to Lucas, and the idea of losing him was troubling. 

Lucas relaxed quite a bit more and straightened his posture, his hands going to his lap. "So I'm not in trouble because I paid attention?" He ventured, looking hopeful. He twisted his lips when he realized Hannibal looked upset. Lucas reached out, carefully, and touched Hannibal's arm. 

Hannibal patted Lucas' hand, then moved his arm out of reach. As upset as he may have been he didn't want the kind gesture to go unappreciated. "I'm not all too fond of redundancies." Lecter had mastered the art of shutting off emotion, and just a second or so after his reply, was back to normal. "Well, now that we have this awkward situation behind us, why don't we get ready for bed. I don't know about you but I've had a rather trying day." He offered his usual fatherly smile to Lucas and stood up from his seat. 

Lucas twisted his lips to one side, but agreed. He cast one look back into the kitchen before gathering up Cicero and replacing the book in it's proper place in the study. He laid awake for a while once he was in bed, going over everything, and wondering just what Hannibal was going to do with what he saw. 

After double checking his packaging, Lecter gave the sink a cleaning, headed up to his room for a shower, then slipped into bed. It had been a routine evening up until the brief moment of discomfort in the kitchen. He laid awake in bed for almost an hour, which was highly unusual for him, mulling over the events of the evening.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note:

I wanted to let everyone know that I did not write the Hannibal in this. This is a roleplay, it amused me and I felt like sharing. However, as some have mentioned, if you find the Hannibal OOC, could you please drop me a line explaining why that is? My friend would love to learn how to better showcase Hannibal.

* * *

><p><p>

Lucas had put the obviously human body parts he had seen out of his mind. He assumed Hannibal needed them for his job, maybe. Or maybe he was going to step up Lucas's anatomy learning to include actual humans. When they never showed up, Lucas found himself confused, but decided to ignore the idea.

He started up High School, after Hannibal told him there was nothing to fret over. Lucas was fine for the first week, though he did in get a brawl thanks to some seniors bullying a female freshman, but Lucas was not bothered by his few scrapes before teachers showed up to break everything apart. In fact, Lucas seemed almost proud.

His marks of the fight were nearly gone almost 2 weeks later, and he was heading home from school. He had told Hannibal he actually enjoyed the walk, it gave him time to exercise and go over his day, so he was quite used to walking by now. He was on their street when he paused and glanced over his shoulder as a car turned the corner a little fast. It was 5 seniors and Lucas knew he was out powered and out numbered.

He bolted, feeling stupid the second he started running. He doubted he could make it and get his key in the front door before they caught up with him, and he knew better than to run across Hannibal's front lawn. He also knew, his luck, he'd end up falling into Hannibal's rose bushes and not only anger his guardian but get scratched up quite well in the process.

He made it to the steps when they caught up with him, three of them having jumped out of the car as it came to a stop in front of the house. Lucas rolled as they tackled him, and happily went into the fight, kicking and punching, he even headbutted one of the boys. He knocked out a few teeth from one of them, and was about to go for another when he caught a bat to the side of his face. It got close to his temple and he slumped back in pain, snarling and trying to regain himself quickly enough to not get hit with that bat again. 

Hannibal had been enjoying his afternoon tea when he heard the screeching of tires out front of his house. He set the cup down carefully, pulled his harpie from his pocket and made his way out the back door. His heart began to race, but only for a moment. His eyes deadened as did his nerves. As he rounded the corner, knife drawn and shoulders hunkered like a cat stalking it's prey, he drew the blade and slunk toward the boys that were going for Lucas. "Good afternoon." 

The boy with the bat dropped it instantly, the others backing off a bit as well. Except for the boy who lost a few teeth, he was still stunned and bleeding next to Lucas. They looked to each other, down at Lucas, and awkwardly stood there, children with their hands caught in the cookie jar. Only one of them had the presence of mind to say "You too." His voice was weak as he spoke, and he looked like he might attempt to pick up Lucas and dust him off, though Lucas was still in the process of figuring out exactly where he was. 

Hannibal took a step forward and put himself between Lucas and the boys, his knife still in hand and his pupils now pinpricks in a sea of blood red. "I'll only tell you once. Leave my son alone." He was baring his teeth angrily, but his voice was sweet as honey, as if he were trying to lull them into a false sense of security. 

The boys backed up when he got closer, even the poor bastard attempting to gather his teeth. One boy, seemingly the eldest and the one with the drivers license as he had the car keys in one hand, took charge and tried to usher everyone back. He plucked up the bat, holding it as gingerly as possible to avoid looking like he would take a swing, and backed off. Some of Lucas's blood was on one end of the bat. The boy who had responded to Hannibal originally answered with a "Sure thing" before getting in the car and sinking down so far he was almost invisible. The driver made sure he obeyed every rule of the road, up until the corner where he punched it and zipped around and away,as if Hannibal could some how catch up with the car.

Lucas rolled himself a bit, groaning in pain and pushing himself up to sit. His head throbbed worse and he clutched at his temples, cringing. He couldn't speak yet, he couldn't even focus on anything more than simple body movements. 

Hannibal folded his knife and knelt down beside Lucas. "Take your time." He brushed his fingers through the grass in search of the boy's missing teeth. Once they were all gathered, he patted Lucas on the shoulder and smiled down at him. "Dare I ask why they were chasing you this time? It's been quite a while since you've been hurt this badly." 

It took Lucas a moment or so, but then he let out a quiet laugh. "Probably because I shamed this first week of school." He gritted his teeth at the more intense throbbing and tried to do anything and everything he could to clear his head. He glanced over at Hannibal, looking at the teeth in his hand. "At least they aren't mine this time." He was whispering now, as if that would some how help with the knife like feeling that he felt every time he spoke. 

Hannibal smiled in amusement, pocketed his knife and stood up with his hand extended to Lucas. "Let's get you inside." He didn't bother to ask why or how he had shamed him, as he knew Lucas always had good reason to fight. He slipped the teeth into his empty pocket and glanced around to make sure there was no one who had been watching while he waited for Lucas to take his hand. 

It again took Lucas a moment, and once he had stood he leaned into Hannibal a bit, trying to not get blood on him but it was hard for him to balance. "I could have gotten them, you know," he comments, his voice slurring slightly. 

Hannibal chuckled softly as he wrapped his arm around Lucas to support his weight a bit better, taking no notice of the blood that was smearing on him. "I don't doubt it for a moment, but all good things to those who wait. Even if you had beaten them all at once, they would have brought twice as many the next time." He set Lucas against the wall while he unlocked the front door. "They understand fear, you see? You must make the monster beneath their bed, the shadow cast from around the corner become _you_, just as they have done to their victims." He bared his teeth as he spoke, making him even more feral in appearance than he already was. 

Lucas seemed to cling onto this idea, and his eyes sharpened a bit as he tried to make sense of what Hannibal was saying. The eye on the side he had taken the bat to was blood shot and bruising was already flaring over his face. "How?" he asked, and quite obviously wanted a real answer. He wanted to know how to be like that. He wanted to have that power. 

Hannibal sighed as he opened the door and turned to face Lucas. "You have to make them feel vulnerable. However you do it is your choice. It should be something that gives you satisfaction. There's nothing more frightening to a person than looking into the eyes of a man who is enjoying their suffering." A grim smile cracked across his lips, barely exposing his canines. 

Lucas nodded and then grumbled in pain. "That really hurt," he whispered, touching the side of his face gingerly. Lucas had never really shown pain, as if he had mastered the art of dealing with it or covering it long before he met Hannibal. He does look dazed still, but far less than most people who had taken a wooden bat to the side of the face. 

Hannibal let out a brief laugh. "As it should. You were hit on the side of your skull with solid oak." He was surprised to see Lucas wince. Even during the times he had set his nose for him he had barely made a sound. 

Lucas shot Hannibal a look that said 'Yeah, thanks', and then he slowly sat down on a stool so he was at a better level for Hannibal to do what he could. The toilet lid had worked for a while, but then Lucas was just too big for Hannibal to kneel and work, but too small for Hannibal to stand. The stool had become their new place to tend to Lucas's wounds.

Lucas sat in silence for a few moments, and then he asked, "How did you know what was going on?" 

Hannibal replied absentmindedly as he pulled what he needed from the first aid kit. "When tires screech out front of my home, nothing good ever comes of it." He brushed a bit of Lucas' hair back with his thumb and clipped it in place before he tended to the cuts. "We'll have to take you to the hospital to check for both fractures and concussions. I don't know about you, but I'd much prefer you were to wake up tomorrow morning." 

Lucas couldn't help but smile gently. "Grown attached to me, huh?" he asked, his smile turning into a bit of a smirk. He was always patient and careful while Hannibal tended to him. He had joked that it was good practice for Hannibal, in case he ever decided to return to medical instead of psychological. 

Hannibal didn't answer, but his fatherly smile was more than enough. He secured the last butterfly bandage and made his way to the kitchen to grab his car keys. He returned with a glass of warm water mixed with salt and an empty cup for him to spit in. "Here. Rinse with this, then it's off to the hospital." 

Lucas made a face, and he hadn't even realized he had bitten his cheek until Hannibal offered him the water. He did as told, like always, and carefully rinsed his hands and cheek. He followed after Hannibal, walking slow and keeping near the wall. He didn't want to fall and cause more damage. 

"It won't take long. I used to work as an MD there you know." Hannibal made sure to keep close to him until he was seated in the car, and checked on him ever 30 seconds or so to make sure he wasn't nodding off. It didn't take long for them to finish the x-rays and the CAT scan, as he knew most of the hospital staff personally. As soon as they were home he pulled back the covers of his bed for him and handed him an icepack for his head. "You're lucky to have gotten away without a fracture or any concussions young man. Let's not tempt fate any further." 

"But I have homework." Lucas was quite an odd boy, and was always so focused on his work. He couldn't do a thing with himself if his homework wasn't finished. When he was given assignments he did them as soon as he got home, and wouldn't stop until he was done. He didn't sit down, even though most of him was saying 'Hannibal is telling you to sit, so sit.' the other half was too focused on his uncompleted homework. 

Hannibal waved his hand dismissively and made his way to the door. "You can worry about that later. I'll explain the situation to your teachers if they have any issues with the matter." He grinned at him in a smug way and turned off the bedroom light. "Now, get some sleep." 

Lucas felt like a bad kid for the first time in quite some time. He nodded sheepishly to Hannibal and slowly sat down on the edge of his bed, working on his shoe laces. No dinner, no chance to finish his homework, sent to bed early. Lucas didn't know what to make of it. It wasn't his fault the kids had followed him home. Lucas got himself set up in his pajamas and laid down, staring up at his ceiling with strained eyes. He simply couldn't sleep, knowing his homework was downstairs, unfinished. His stomach wasn't letting him sleep either. He'd wait, wait until Hannibal was asleep, and then he would sneak downstairs, get some crackers, and do his homework.

Hannibal laid awake, staring blankly at the ceiling in contemplation of his life. Until Lucas had shown up, there had really been no end goal, nothing in particular driving him except the will to run far away from his past. Even during his marriage he had remained completely detached, so it was odd to have such a personal connection after living his life alone. Lecter couldn't help but feel like he was being irresponsible with his approach to raising Lucas, but at this point it was useless to change his parenting method.

Two hours went by as if they had been mere minutes, and still he found himself staring at the same spot on the ceiling. His eyes had adjusted so well to the dark that the point of his focus was a bright white, almost taking the appearance of tunnel vision, and when he closed his eyes he could hear even the slightest disturbance made by the soft summer breeze outside. 

Lucas had heard Hannibal go to bed, and when he heard nothing for two hours, he slowly got up. With Hannibal as his father, for lack of a better word, Lucas had gotten pretty good at sneaking. Some times he wasn't even caught. He knew which stairs creaked, and he made sure to not touch the railing. He undid the zipper on his backpack one set of teeth at a time, breath held. He didn't want to risk pulling out a chair or settling his work on the table, so he remained on the ground inside the kitchen. He slowly, slowly, opened the oven to give himself some light, and he ate the left over crackers from his lunch because he was very hungry. He had to squint, and it just hurt his head worse, but he was determined to do his home work, come hell or high water. 

Hannibal's eyes perked up at the sound of quieted footsteps and slowly unfolded his harpy as he sat up in bed. As he moved down the hallway, he glanced in Lucas' room, and when he saw that he wasn't there he folded his knife and smirked playfully. He made his way down the stairs carefully, and spotted Lucas settled on the floor. Lecter cleared his throat as he settled against the wall and stared down at him, and a smug grin stretched across his lips. "Burning the midnight oil I see." 

Lucas jolted, dropped his pencil and was standing quite quickly. He nearly fell into the oven, but he caught himself against the wall. He gripped at his sternum. "Jesus. Don't do that," he begged, closing his eyes and relaxing his body, smoothing back his hair. He opened his eyes and brushed the crumbs away from his mouth. He twisted his lips to one side, looking down at his homework and then back up at Hannibal. "Sorry, but please let me finish my work? I won't be able to sleep if I don't." 

Hannibal laughed heartily and flipped on the kitchen light before taking his usual seat. "You're a peculiar boy. Though I should expect this sort of thing from you." He smirked as he got up and walked over to the fridge. "Heat up whatever you'd like to eat, and be sure to wash your dish when you're finished down here. Breakfast at seven." He stopped midway to the kitchen entry and turned to face Lucas while he waited for a response." 

Lucas gave him an odd look, and glanced at the fridge as if it was some type of lie or trap. After a moment he ventured, "You're not mad?" 

Hannibal let out a grunt of a laugh. "Well, all things considered I have no reason to be upset. You snuck out of bed to finish your schoolwork. My only request is that next time you ask." He pulled his knife from his pocket and wiggled it back and forth between his thumb and index finger to hint at his original intent. "Had you bumped me in the dark, we'd have quite a mess on our hands and I would never forgive myself." 

Lucas slowly closed the oven, glancing at the knife. "Well, how do I ask if I can't bump you in the dark?" he teased, smirking that little smirk he had started using with Hannibal a few years ago. 

Hannibal shot him an unamused look and made his way back up to his room. He breathed a sigh of relief once he was back to his bed and let his body relax for the first time that day. Surprisingly it didn't take him long to fall asleep, though he would be waking up in just four short hours. 

Lucas had to take it a little slow, he was still suffering from pain thanks to the bat to his head, but he managed his work. In what would be some mirror of his life in the future, though Lucas didn't know it yet, he fell asleep on top of his work, the reheated leftovers at his elbow, only half eaten because he was so focused on his work. It was late and Lucas wasn't used to it, so he some how managed to fall asleep on the breakfast table. 

Hannibal took his usual morning shower, dressed and headed downstairs to get started on breakfast. When he spotted Lucas asleep on the counter, he shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. Still, he couldn't help but crack a smile at the image. "Good morning, sunshine. I see you pulled an all nighter. I do hope you managed to finish your schoolwork." 

Lucas sat up quickly, looking around in surprise. He locked his eyes onto Hannibal and glared at him a bit. He yawned and glanced down at his work. "Yeah. I think so." He squinted down at his math, the subject he left for last, and quietly did the last two problems easily. "Okay, now I am done." he nodded, shifting through everything and putting it away. He glanced down at the left overs and shrugged his shoulders to himself. This way Hannibal wouldn't have to make him something for breakfast, he figured. 

Hannibal chuckled to himself as he got to work on preparing the coffee. "I'll put in another cup of grounds, just for you." He smirked over his shoulder at him and settled against the counter. "I'd try and talk you into taking a day of rest but I'm certain you'll have none of it." 

"Just cause I'm hurt doesn't mean life stops." He shrugged his shoulders lightly as he carefully sorted everything in their correct areas of his backpack. The bruising was quite bad, but the swelling wasn't too terrible. He took out the remains of his lunch from the day before and crumpled up the paper bag. He ate a few more bites of his left overs and pushed his hand through his hair. "Or do you rest when you're hurt?" He knew Hannibal had been hurt, he could tell, some how. 

"Well, yes. Of course life doesn't stop, but you're allowed to slow down." Hannibal gave him a concerned look as he prepared their coffee. "If you don't learn that now you'll pay for it later in life." 

Lucas nipped at his bottom lip. "Do you say that as a doctor or a dad?" He hadn't ever referenced Hannibal as his father, and he was being quite indirect with it now, but the sentiment was there, clear as day. 

Hannibal perked his brow at Lucas. A dad? He knew Lucas looked up to him, but to hear it said by him was far more uplifting, and in some ways frightening. Lecter didn't enjoy others having any sort of expectations of him. "Both, actually. I may be strong, but I am not what I was thirty years ago. I've had to develop alternative methods to rushing in blade drawn, so to speak." He offered Lucas a soft smile as he set his coffee down in front of him and took a seat beside him. 

Lucas wrapped his hands around his coffee mug in order to enjoy the warmth for the moment. With the days being so hot, the nights and mornings felt that much colder. Lucas studied him for a few moments and then sighed. "Alright. Besides, it's probably for the best. Focusing still hurts a bit." He gestured to the bruises on his face. "Do I have to lay in bed and only drink soup if I stay home?" 

Hannibal laughed heartily as he sipped his coffee. "No, but I'll have to pick up your schoolwork for the day. I'll ask them to give you until the end of the week." He settled back in his chair and took a deep breath. "What would you like for breakfast?" 

Lucas smiled, he liked that Hannibal would get him his schoolwork instead of making him relax completely. Lucas tapped the now cold edge of his left overs from last night. "I'm covered." Despite being with Hannibal as long as he had, he still was able to revert to his old manner. To his saving some bits of his food on the off chance he didn't eat the next day, to being fine with possibly bad food or something cold that was supposed to be warm. If nothing else, it was clear Lucas could be content with little food and little luxury, though he much preferred his soft bed and good food that Hannibal provided for him. 

"If you insist." Lecter cooked himself a simple omelette with peppers, mushrooms and cheese. He was in no mood for extravagant food, which was rare for him. "I'll have to shorten my day at work, though I must admit I'm not too upset about that." He let out a sigh and let his back hunch as he sniffed at his coffee. 

Lucas smiled. "I think I'm a decent excuse." He said it with the air of vanity, but he was a rather humble boy. Lucas took a moment to just enjoy the fact he was able to be so happy. That he was picked up by Hannibal and allowed to live with him. He wondered how his mother was, if his father had ever changed. He grew a tad pensive looking, and just held his coffee, not quite to his lips. 

Hannibal didn't bother to gratify Lucas' words with a response. He finished his breakfast quickly, polished off the remainder of his coffee and grabbed his coat and hat out of the hall closet, then headed off to work. He had no issue letting Lucas have free reign over the house while he was out, as he knew he was a good boy and had yet to do anything irresponsible, at least by Hannibal's standards. 

Lucas said his goodbyes to Hannibal, and then did what he considered free reign; he ate cheese and crackers for lunch and listened to records. With his feet up. By the time Hannibal got home Lucas was laying down in the middle of the study with Bach playing and reading up on the philosophy books that Hannibal seemed to enjoy so much. A plate of crackers and cheese still at his side. The volume was up just one click past where Hannibal generally had it. As if that was Lucas's way of partying hard. 

Hannibal made it through the day with ease. He was used to being awake for up to three days straight while on the run. He had an unpleasant time dealing with his teachers, however, and had to use his viper's tongue to scare them into submission. It wasn't long before he was home, a thin folder of what he considered remedial academic content at best tucked under his arm. He walked slowly to the study in step to the music, humming the tune quietly to himself as he went.

"To think they consider this a quality education. Educational standards are at an all time low, it would seem." He smirked down at Lucas, though there was an air of pride. He was such an intelligent boy, and a well behaved one at that. The house was just as he had left it 6 hours ago, and he had walked in to find that he was merely studying a different subject matter while listening to cultured music. At a glance, he seemed like a perfect child to Hannibal, but he well knew that rage lurked beneath it all. He only hoped it would never come out. 

Lucas sat up and stretched, smiling up at Hannibal. He laughed a little at Hannibal's words. "Yeah. I keep trying to get them to give me higher grade math, but they won't let me." Lucas was quite an odd boy to be wanting harder math, but he finally quieted himself when they offered to give him harder work in all of his subjects, as Lucas was not so sharp with history and social studies. 

Hannibal's eyes narrowed and an indignant expression swept across his face. "They would refuse a student the opportunity to further their education in a subject in which they excel? I'll have none of this." His voice was stern and sharp, though it wasn't directed at Lucas. It was the first time he could remember becoming angry around Lucas. He quieted his frustration quickly and softened his voice and expression. "I'm sorry if I startled you. I don't often lose my temper." 

Lucas just perked a brow at Hannibal, and he didn't seem scared at all. His heart had sped up, just a tad, remembering his former home and the father who lost his temper there. But one deep breath and he was shrugging his shoulders. "I am crap at history. And English, kinda. They said I had to bump up all my studies, and I couldn't do just one," he explained, closing the book he had been reading slowly, and walking to it's place, putting it back on the shelf. He carefully turned off the record player and replaced the record in it's case. "So, yeah. It didn't go over when I tried. Knowing you, you'll have better luck." 

Hannibal spoke softly, which made his anger seem all the more startling. "Trust me when I say your troubles with your teachers are nearing an end. I'll sort them out tomorrow. As much as I detest the idea, you should get to work on that pathetic pile they refer to as curriculum." 

Lucas smiled at Hannibal and gathered up his work for the day. "Won't take long. It was difficult last night because of my head and the hour." He gathered his plate and glanced all around to ensure the study was just as it had been, and then he walked at a steady pace, the type he always used with Hannibal, on his way to the kitchen. Lucas always made sure Hannibal was at his side if they were speaking. Though he hadn't seen Hannibal often like this, Lucas had too much confidence in him to be too worried.

"You're not going to beat them up or something, are you?" Lucas asked, settling down where he always did for his work. It was childish to think that Hannibal would for some reason punch any of his teachers, but Lucas was in many ways still a child. Despite his intelligence and the way he held himself, he was still just 14 years old. And he was without a lot of life lessons until he met Hannibal. He was still learning. 

Hannibal let out a grim laugh. "Quite the contrary, I only plan to give them a feeling equivalent to your own. Bullied and cheated, with a complete lack of control over the situation. Not to worry, however, I'm not planning anything illegal if that is what you're implying." 

"You? Something illegal? Never crossed my mind." Lucas couldn't help but laugh softly as he bent his head to his work. While most of the time, Hannibal was quite law abiding, Lucas couldn't forget the forged documents that claimed him as Hannibal's son, nor the wine he is at times offered, or the body parts he has seen. Hannibal was a good man to Lucas, but Lucas well knew that it did not mean Hannibal was a good man in general. 

Hannibal gave him a curious look and remained in the doorway. "Shall I start on dinner?" He wondered if Lucas had caught on to something, the body parts, why he carried the knife, and why he chose the harpie in particular. Regardless, if he planned to tell someone about it, he would have by now, at least that's what Hannibal told himself. 

Lucas perked a brow at the look on Hannibal's face. "The fake papers... The wine." Lucas said, rolling his hand in the air to signify 'things of that nature'. Lucas glanced back at his papers. "You think I don't know how documents work or the legal drinking age?" He smiled over at Hannibal and settled back in his chair. "What were you thinking for dinner?"

"A bit of a blunt segue wouldn't you say?" Hannibal made his way to the fridge as he spoke, and a playful sneer crept across his lips. "Regarding dinner, I haven't yet decided. Possibly filets, fresh cut from a young bull." He looked over his shoulder at Lucas with in a mock-malicious stare and chuckled darkly. 

Lucas seemed to catch the 'young bull' crack, and he pointedly returned to his homework. "Oh, I trust you with dinner," he promised, turning to his math in order to resettle his mind so he could focus. He only did a few problems before switching to the harder for him subjects 

Hannibal grunted out an amused laugh and went about his business. As promised, he produced steaks from the fridge, however they were not filets. New York strips, his usual salad side, sourdough bread and pan cooked garlic potatoes. "I was thinking something a bit more hearty would do you well. Not among my favorites, but growing boys need their nutrition." He spoke with the air of a proud farmer boasting his prized cow, explaining the simple method he used to plump his livestock. 

Lucas put away his work once dinner was ready, and he settled into his chair. "So, what are you going to say?" he asked, looking at Hannibal. He wondered how Hannibal was going to manage getting him harder math. He was, as always, very happy with his dinner. 

Hannibal sighed in defeat when he realized his attempts to shock Lucas were failing. "I didn't have anything in particular planned. I'd rather improvise, have it appear more natural. A well rehearsed line rarely has the impact of one said in the moment." He smirked at Lucas and got to work on preparing dinner without another word. 

He picked up on the defeated sigh and laughed. "Hannibal, how long have I been here? You swear I'm still unused to you. I don't think you could even surprise me by this point. Except for sneaking. You are very good at sneaking." He wiggled his pencil at him. 

Hannibal kept his focus on preparing dinner, but did allow a single, "Ah," to escape him. He'd sooner stray from the subject for fear that Lucas would at some point mention his peculiar habits. As much as he had grown to enjoy the taste of human flesh, he resented himself for doing so, and his reasoning as to why he devoured human beings never left him. He maintained his composure, but not without gripping the kitchen knife hard enough that his knuckles turned white. Every work Lucas spoke ended with a flash of Mischa's face, though he valiantly pushed it back. 

Lucas noticed the way Hannibal gripped at the knife, and he returned his focus to his work, going quiet. He didn't want to upset or bother Hannibal, and he realized he had some how upset him. He waited for Hannibal to finish with readying dinner, and managed to regain his focus on his work. 

Hannibal quickly settled once their conversation ceased. He had no desire to startle Lucas, and was usually on top of his emotions. "Dinner should be ready in about an hour." He had already tenderized the meat the day before, rubbed it in his personal blend of seasonings, and had marinated it in it's own blood. He washed his hands, headed to his study and returned at Lucas' side with a copy of Hamlet. "This would be good for you to read if you haven't already. It tells of a man, blinded by rage and revenge who loses everything, including himself in pursuit of what he perceives to be justice." He pushed his glasses up his nose a bit and licked his thumb to turn the page. 

Lucas gave Hannibal his full attention when he appeared at his side, though he tried to always give Hannibal his full attention. Lucas was always as respectful as possible. He tilted his head to glance at the pages, still readying himself to listen to Hannibal. Lucas noticed something about the way Hannibal explained the book, but instead of seeing it as a window into Hannibal, he saw it as a warning. 

Lecter immersed himself in the book, already lost in the story and just past the opening paragraph. The hard cover was only slightly frayed around the edges, and while the pages had a well used look about them, they were immaculate aside from the discoloration of aging. It was obvious the book was old, likely older than him what with the suede covering over the canvas lining, and the spine of the book securing the pages to it with thread strong enough to hold the seams of a miner's trousers. He was completely aware of his surroundings, though still managed to enjoy the story. Half an hour later the kitchen was filled with the smell of the steak seasoning, and that was when Hannibal knew to start on the potatoes. He dressed them with minced garlic, olive oil, chives, parsley and added red bell peppers to the mix for an extra kick of flavor. Once the pan was set and the temperature was steady, he rinsed his hands once again and took his seat beside Lucas. 

Lucas was, some how, able to keep up with Hannibal as he read, so once he went to continue with dinner, Lucas continued with his work. He managed to finish off his science before Hannibal returned, and he resettled so they could continue to share the experience of Hamlet. He doubted he could convince Hannibal to read it to him, but he had a feeling that Hannibal was very good at reading stories. 

Hannibal had taken notice of Lucas reading over his shoulder, and had slowed his reading speed for him, glancing slightly to make sure he had finished the page as well. "You know, if you'd like to read this now you may. I've lost count of how many times I've thumbed through this book, so it would be no great loss to me." 

"Nah, I have homework," he said, as if he hadn't been ignoring it the entire time Hannibal was there. He squeaked over to his work again, remembering the page number he was on in order to return to it, his head bent a little more than normal to stop himself from the temptation. He hated the subject he was currently on, and it was a struggle to remain focused. 

Hannibal chuckled in amusement, shrugged and returned to reading. It was finally time to eat, and he couldn't be happier. Simple, hearty food on occasion was more pleasing to him than the finest meal. Despite all his education, all his culturing, he couldn't seem to escape his roots no matter how hard he tried. He set out their plates and returned to Lucas' side, pouring himself a glass of wine and Lucas water and juice. "I hope you enjoy it." He placed his napkin in his lap and got to work on sectioning his steak, only pausing to savor the aromas of each dish. 

"I don't think I've ever not enjoyed your food," he told him before taking a bite. He relaxed visibly and put his attention into eating, and not bothering Hannibal like he often found himself doing during the day. 

"You can take a break while we eat you know. If you don't slow down you'll burn yourself out before the end of high school." Lecter set his bookmark in the seem of the spine and shuffled it to the side, then returned to his meal. He found it rude to entertain himself while in the company of another, at least during a ceremonious event such as dinner. 

"I know, it's just difficult for me to ignore my work." But he put it to one side for Hannibal, setting his pencil so far away he would really have to lean to get to it again. "Besides, didn't you get like, three crazy degrees at once? How did you not burn out with all that?" he asked, taking a bite to show he would be silent while Hannibal replied. 

Hannibal gave him a blank stare for a moment, and replied with a hesitance and curiosity. "I did. For me, however, there was nothing else. My work was my life." His voice faded off as he came to the realization that Lucas was now his priority. It was an odd thought. "It was for years." 

Lucas tilted his head at Hannibal, nipping at the end of the handle of his fork. "Alright, I'll slow down," he tried to reassure him, not wanting Hannibal to worry about him too much. 

"Good. I'm happy to hear it." Dinner went by without much more conversation which was much to Hannibal's liking. Before he knew it he was in bed finishing up the second act of Hamlet and drifting off rather quickly, thoughts of his conversations with Lucas passing in and out of his mind.

It didn't take long for Lucas to finish his homework, his meal, and his evening. He went to bed with Hamlet buzzing in his mind like an angry bee. What if he would give into his, already strong, desire for revenge? Would he turn into Hannibal? Lucas figured he wouldn't mind, but he had only a shadow of a clue as to what all Hannibal did that might be seen as illegal.


End file.
